The Hard Life
by killtherat
Summary: Life isnt meant to be hard, but try telling this to 16 year old Harry Potter, who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Follow Harry as he deals with his violent family, his true family, and every hardship that Voldemort can throw at him, and
1. Chapter 1

A/N Hi,

Just a quick note, nothing important. I have been writing this story for about 2 years, I am a first time writer, and have already written 43 Chapters which are posted on various Harry Potter fan fiction sites. My profile on these sites can be found under 'killtherat' or 'killthatrat.' I have posted a few chapters on , to see what kind of feedback I get. If all goes well I will continue posting.

Just a word of warning, this story included physical child abuse, and kidnap scenes (but not until chapters 21+) This story is violent, and has some _mild _swearing.

That all being said, thank you for taking the time to have a peek at my story.

(NB: this is an alternate universe, where Sirius Black did survive the Ministry scandal)

"Now you listen here boy and you listen good," Vernon Dursley growled to his young nephew, who was looking genuinely bored.

"I want none of this funny business! No freaks turning up on our doorstep at all hours! No more-" he lowered his voice, "Violent mugs full of God only knows what poison! I won't put up with it this time boy!"

Harry Potter sat in the back seat of his uncle's shiny new car; still looking terribly bored as he stared out the window, taking in the sights of London that he had not seen for a long time. "Yes sir," he replied tonelessly. He heard his aunt Petunia scoff, as his uncle started again,

"Don't you 'yes sir' me in that tone," he said forcefully as he stopped for a red light. "And I'll have none of that ruddy bird hooting and such at all hours! We need sleep you know!"

"She's an Owl!" Harry said in outrage. "I can't stop her hooting, if I could I would!"

Vernon Dursley turned around in his seat, the vein on his forehead throbbing wildly. Harry thanked his lucky stars that the car was still immobile as his uncle thundered,

"DON'T TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME BOY, OR YOU WON'T LIVE TO REGRET IT!"

Not bothered at all by his uncle's outburst Harry simply turned back to the window and stated, "You know you, ought to keep your voice down. My godfather who is two cars behind us wont appreciate death threats."

The look of horror on his uncle's face was priceless. He opened his mouth gaping like a fish, before turning around in his seat, glaring at Petunia as though it were her fault.

Of course, Harry had no idea where his Godfather was, but he would never let on. A real smiled graced his lips, as he remembered saying goodbye to his now cleared godfather.

"So where is Dudley?"

"He didn't come obviously," said his Aunt from the front seat; "He's having tea with Piers again tonight."

Remembering how stupid the Dursleys were about their son he relied, "Of course."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ *^*^*^

" I don't want…don't make me…"

"There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."

"No unforgivable curses from you, Potter!"

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!"

"Please, please, please, no…not that, not that, I'll do anything…"

"Sirius no! Please don't go!"

Harry Potter awoke from his nightmare with a loud gasp. He lay still, tangled in his sheets, cold sweat clinging to his body as he tried to slow his breathing down.

He shut his eyes as he relaxed from his tension, and sank back into the pillow, rolling onto his side to get comfortable again. He sighed softly. He'd only been at the Dursley's a week, and already he had had two dreams, this one making the total three. He raised his head to look at the illuminated clock on his bedside table. It read 5:40. His breathing now back to normal, he forced himself out of bed. He then quickly got changed into his almost worn out tracksuit, which he refused to throw away.

He quietly crept downstairs, careful to avoid the squeaking step, and let himself outside. He breathed in the cool morning air as he set off jogging down the garden path. He turned left and continued along the sidewalk, breathing in the fresh morning air.

He found running was like a release for him. He learnt quickly enough not to run flat out, but to jog at a pace that he liked. He smiled and waved at other early morning joggers as he continued his new hobby. A sense of calm crept through his body, as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Running had become like a time out, a time to just think things through. During these times he often cursed himself for letting go of Ginny. Obviously she was more than a sister to him. The more he thought of her, the more he mentally kicked himself for what he did. 'She's safer with out me,' he often thought. 'Still doesn't change the way I feel about her.'

He continued his new hobby for a little while more, before collapsing down on a park bench panting. He rested there for a few minutes, fondly remembering the fun time he and Sirius had had, cleaning out the library in Grimauld Place. He had spent a few days with him over Christmas, when they got the guts to sort through the dusty old books, most of which contained the Dark Arts. He smiled as he remembered the long sneezing fit Sirius had had from all the dust. He smiled at the thought as he got up from the bench and began his journey back to the Dursleys'.

He slowed to a walk as he made his way up the garden path. He slowly opened the front door, keeping an ear out for any sign of movement from the Dursleys. His cousin's thunderous snores filled the house as Harry tip toed quietly to the upstairs bathroom to take a shower.

He stood under the warm water, letting it trickle down his body as he thought of how much longer he had to stay with his only blood relatives. 'Dumbledore wanted me to stay atleast until I turn 17.' He swore under his breath at the thought. 'I'm gonna go insane before I reach that.'

A loud banging on the bathroom door interrupted his thoughts. His aunt Petunia bellowed through the wooden door,

"OUT! It's Dudders turn in there!"

Sighing to himself, he quickly turned off the shower and exited, dressing hastily.

Once dressed, Harry entered the dining room downstairs and quietly greeted his uncle, who was sitting down reading his weekend newspaper. His uncle grunted to signify that he had heard his nephew. Harry sat down and helped himself to a piece of toast as the pipes upstairs groaned slightly as Dudley turned on the water.

"Anything interesting in the paper dear?" Harry's aunt questioned her husband as she served him a generous helping of bacon.

"Petrol prices have gone up again. They're taking money right out of our pockets!"

"That's awful dear," she replied, "How much have they gone up?" she asked, feigning interest.

"Never mind that now! Look! Look at this!" he cried.

"What is it dear?" Petunia replied dutifully as she leant over his shoulder to read the advertisement.

Harry tuned out as his Uncle began babbling on about the sale that Grunnings competition Mitre 10 was having. He buttered his toast quietly, and began chewing as he listened idly to the music playing on the radio. He was snapped from his deep thought by the shrill ringing of the telephone.

He began to rise from his chair to answer it as his aunt hissed at him, "Don't even think about answering that telephone! I'll get it!"

Rolling his eyes mentally he nodded and sat back down and continued eating his toast.

"Dursley residence," aunt Petunia said tonelessly. Her eyes widened in shock as the person on the other end replied.

"There is no Harry Potter living here, you have the wrong number!" she spat down the phone as she hung up. She dropped it back onto the kitchen counter as though she had been burned, with a disgusted look on her face.

"What is it Petunia?" Vernon Dursley grunted.

Wringing her hands tightly together, she briskly hurried over to her husband and whispered something in his ear as the phone began ringing again.

Harry watched curiously as his uncle turned all colors, then quickly made his way to the ringing telephone.

"YES?"

Harry watched, still filled with curiosity, as his usually intimidating uncle faltered. The purple color of his face changed to a pasty grey, as he turned and brandished the phone in Harry's direction.

"It's for you!" he growled as quietly as his voice would let him.

"Oh, ok," he replied laughing slightly at the color of his Uncle's face.

Trying not to smirk, he took the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"


	2. Chapter 2

"HELLO?" an unknown voice hollered down the line. "HELLO? HARRY! HARRY ARE YOU THERE!"

The boy who lived paused in shock, before replying incredulously, "Bill?"

"SWEET MOTHER OF MERLIN THAT'S AMAZING! I CAN ACTUALLY HEAR YOU! HEY! HEY HARRY IM ON A FELEPHONE!"

"Telephone Bill, not felephone," Harry said laughing, as he ignored the stares he was receiving from his Aunt and Uncle.

"HOLD ON! DADS TALKING TO ME."

Harry listened quietly as Mr. Weasly interrupted Bill to tell him, "Bill talk normally, like he's right next to you, don't yell."

"He's on the other side of the country you lunatic."

"Just try it son."

Harry listened, as he heard Bill almost whisper, "Hello?"

"Hey Bill. I can hear you."

"Sweet mother of Merlin. HE CAN HEAR ME!" he called out to the room at large.

"GIMME ME A GO!" some body yelled.

"NO! IT'S MY TURN!"

"GIVE IT!" another demanded.

"STOP IT!"

Harry burst out laughing at this. The whole Weasly clan must have been there listening.

"GO AWAY FRED! IT'S MY TURN! Hey Harry its me again! Can you really hear me?"

"Yeah just fine. What's up?" he questioned, smiling at the innocent question. He turned around and looked at his Aunt and Uncle, both with their heads together talking frantically.

"OK well I'll be qu- No Ginny I'm talking to Harry! Go away! Yeah we've got a problem."

"Oh yeah what's the problem?"

"Well it's about the wedding. Fleur wants to have equal amount of bridesmaids, as there are groomsmen, but now Percy has gone and shoved his head back where the sun don't shine and refuses to come."

"Oh I thought he and everyone were starting to make up. What happened?" Harry replied curiously thinking about how Ron had mention that he was going to come over for dinner.

"Oh pretty much we're breathing, that's about it. But anyway all my groomsmen are my brothers, but I'm one short! Do you see my dilemma?" Bill replied quickly.

"Yes," Harry said slowly. "What has that got to do with me though?"

"Well, I thought to myself, who else do I know that is like a brother to me…and I thought you could be my other groomsman! I mean you're practically family anyway!"

"Oh! You want me to be one of your groomsmen?"

"Yeah would you! I honestly don't know why I didn't think of it before!"

"Oh yeah that sounds great! Umm, what should I wear!" thinking to himself about all the extravagant clothing Fleur would want.

"Don't worry! It's all sorted! So pack your bags 'cos someone will swing by this time tomorrow to pick you up, okay?"

Harry faltered, "But the wedding isn't until next week. Why so early?"

"Silly! We have to get you something to wear, and then you can help with the rest of all the preps. There's so much to do! I swear Harry never get married! Or if you do, elope!"

Laughing, Harry continued, "Will do Bill thanks for the advice."

"No probs! Hey wait a min, everyone wants to talk to you."

"Ok bye!"

"HARRY!"

"Hey Ron, no need to shout."

"Oh, yeah sorry," his best friend said guiltily remembering the last time he had called Harry's home in Privet Drive.

"What's been happening at the Burrow?"

"Oh Merlin, mum has gone stark crazy! You have to get over here ASAP! She's like a ticking bomb!"

"She can't be that bad!"

"Hold on mate Ginny wants to talk to you."

"Oh ok then, bye Ron."

"Hey Harry."

"Hey Gin, I hear your mum's driving you up the wall," Harry replied casually, hoping this would not be an awkward conversation.

"Yes! She is going crazy you have to get over here now before Ron and I go permanently insane! Oh and Hermione's coming over in a couple of days too."

"Awesome," Harry said with a smile.

"Oh no, Dad wants me to get off. He keeps going on about how much this call is gonna cost. Can you believe we actually have to pay every time we use this idiotic thing!"

"Fact of life I'm afraid, nothing is for free."

"Oh tell me about it. Anyway I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Ok see you then. Bye."

"No wait!"

"Yeah?" Harry replied curiously.

"Umm," Ginny started, clearly embarrassed. "How do I turn this thing off?"

Laughing at her question he simply said, "Put it back in the holder."

"Ok thanks, bye bye!" she said cheerfully.

"Bye," Harry said, equally as cheerful.

Harry placed the telephone back in the receiver, smiling as he did so, until his Uncle bellowed at him,

"WHAT ON GOD'S EARTH WAS THAT ALL ABOUT!"

Harry turned around to face the purple face of his furious Uncle.

"I told you I would have none of this rubbish when you came here! None of your abnormalness! You hear me boy!"

"Yes," Harry replied tersely as he abandoned all thought of breakfast, and began to make his way toward the hallway before he said something he would regret.

"Come back here!" his Uncle shouted at him. Harry felt a strong chubby hand wrap its sausage like fingers around his arm, wrenching him back. Harry gasped as he felt a shot of pain shoot up his arm into his shoulder, just as he felt a stinging slap across his cheek, which sent his crashing into the kitchen bench.

"Vernon!" his Aunt gasped at her husband.

"Stay out of this!" he yelled pointing his finger at his wife.

Harry leant against the kitchen bench, as he painfully waited for the stars in front of his eyes to stop dancing. He stood up and stepped back a step as his Uncle rounded on him.

"Go to your room," he spat. "AND DON'T COME OUT!"

Harry started chuckling to himself despite the situation.

"What?" his Uncle questioned, looking at his nephew as though he were a speck of dirt.

"I'm going to the Burrow tomorrow, and now everyone will know that you just hit me," Harry replied, smirking as he said so.

The color from his Uncles face drained, as he began to splutter.

Enjoying the look on his Uncles face, he continued. "Some how I don't think my convicted criminal Godfather will appreciate what you have just done."

His Uncle looked murderous as he leapt forward again grabbing his young nephew by the arm tightly, and almost throwing his into the hallway.

"Get to your room now!" he spat, unable to muster up anything else.

"Gladly," came the reply as he held his hand to his face in mock salute, before turning around and heading up the stairs as fast as he could.

Harry lay on his bed that evening, still contemplating what had happened earlier that morning. Truthfully it had come as a shock to him, as it had been so long since his Uncle had treated him like that. He shuddered inside at the thought of what would happen simply if he bought home a better report than Dudley.

He hadn't thought about that side of his childhood since he started Hogwarts. Mainly because his Uncle had stopped his abuse as soon as his acceptance letter finally arrived.  
What worried him most now was what everyone would say tomorrow. The bruising on his face was too obvious to explain as a bump. He reached up and touched the particuly painful bruise above his eye, from where he hit his head on the counter.

He was interrupted however, from his thoughts by a loud know on his locked door.

"Dad wants you downstairs now," his Cousin said loudly as he unlocked the door.

Harry groaned and sat up as his Cousin opened his door with a smirk.

"Have fun," Dudley sneered as Harry pushed past him.

Harry made his way downstairs and entered the lounge room, where his Uncle stood infront of the empty fireplace, sipping a glass of Sherry.

"You wanted me?"

Vernon Dursley put down his sherry, and turned to glare at his beaten nephew.

"Don't think you can play games with me boy."

Harry remained silent, looking at him emotionlessly.

"I know that there's no way on this world you would tell those freaks anything. If you were going to tell them anything you would have told them long before this."

Harry kept his mouth shut tight, as hard realization hit him. He was right.

"You couldn't bear the look of pity in their eyes. And they wouldn't believe you anyway."

Harry still stayed silent; the anger began bubbling up inside him as he glared daggers at his Uncle.

His Uncle lowered his voice and growled, "And who would care."

His self-control breaking, Harry spat "My Godfather would."

"You're Godfather doesn't care shit!" Vernon Dursley yelled as he stormed over to push his nephew against the wall.

Harry gasped at the force. Looking up at his towering Uncle, he defiantly said, "My friends would care. The Weasleys would care."

His Uncle growled as he yelled "OUT! GET OUT OF HERE YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BRAT!" Pushing Harry roughly aside as he did so. He took his chance and stormed out of the lounge room, almost bowling over his Aunt who was watching the scene infront of her unfold.

Harry stopped, and turned back to his Aunt to say, "I'm being picked up sometime tomorrow morning. I'll be gone a little over a week, but I have to come back."

He continued on his way upstairs to his room, not even waiting for his Aunt's reply.

Harry Potter sighed as he tried to force his trunk shut. Exasperated he finally succeeded by sitting on top of it. He stood up looking around making sure he had enough for the week. As much as he dreaded coming back, he knew Dumbledore would want him to.

He heard a loud knocking on the wooden door to Harry's childhood home, and he rushed over to the window. Yes! Remus. He thought to himself.

He looked quickly at his reflection in the dim hope that his face looked any better. He grimaced as he took in the now only slightly pink patch on his cheek, but the bruise above his eye had now turned an ugly green. He smoothed his fringe over it as he opened his door, hoping to simply hide it.

He bounded down the stairs, smiling at the scared look on Dudley's face as he peered down the hallway.

Harry opened the door to greet his old professor, hoping desperately that he and everybody else's eye sight had taken a great decline, but to no avail.

"Merlin what have you done to your face Harry!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Hi to you to Remus," Harry replied with a smile.

"Hi, but wha-what happened?" he questioned persistently, as he leaned in closer to observe the young boy's face.

"Umm, I'll tell you on the way, how are we getting there?" Harry questioned as he stood back to allow his old professor to enter.

"Portkey," he said as he showed Harry the old candlestick he was holding. "How are things going here?" he asked as the two hugged.

"Things are fine, boring as hell though."

"I can only imagine. Where are your things?"

"Oh upstairs."

Harry turned to show him upstairs, but was greeted by his Uncle standing in the hallway, glowering at them both.

"Hello," Remus began, offering his hand. "Remus Lupin"

Vernon Dursleys face slowly turned purple as he spluttered, "Hurry up and take the boy. Then get out!"

Remus raised his eyebrows as Harry quickly ushered him upstairs to his bedroom.

"Sorry about that Remus, he's in a mood this morning."

"That's fine, not your fault. Did you want to say good bye at all?" Remus queried.

"Uh no that's fine, I said goodbye earlier," he lied, not wanting to make another scene with his Uncle.

"OK. You ready?"

"Yes, let's get out of here."

Remus quickly shrunk Harry's trunk and broomstick, which he pocketed before offering the candlestick for him to touch.

"Three, two, one," he said with a smile. Harry returned the smile, eager to get to his destination.

Not long after, Harry felt his feet slam into the ground. He steadied himself and looked around. He smiled genuinely as his eyes took in the familiar sights of one of his most favorite places.

"You coming?" Remus questioned as he began walking towards the burrow.

Harry began walking, the smile not fading as he came closer to the Burrow.

"So are you going to tell me what happened to your face?"

Laughing Harry began the story he had rehearsed the night before.

"Well my idiot cousin decided it might be fun to trip me as I came out of the bathroom," pausing to look at Remus' face he continued, "Therefore sending me flying down the stairs. It wasn't so fun after all."

"No. I can't imagine it would be," his professor replied, raising his eyebrows slightly, and Harry immediately knew that the older man did not believe him. Thankfully however, he did not push the subject.

They reached the front door of the Burrow, and knocked loudly. Harry smiled again as he heard shouts of, "Hey Harry's here!"

The door was quickly opened by Mrs. Weasly, who took one look at the boy infront of her, and said loudly, "Harry James Potter! What did you do to your face?"

"So what happened?" Ron inquired, as he and Harry collected eggs from the hen house at the Weaslys family home, later that afternoon.

Harry mentally sighed as he began to retell his lie. "I told you, Dudley tripped me and I went flying to the stairs. "

"Hmmm," his red haired friend said. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground, pretending to look for more chicken eggs.

"Mum will get rid them in no time. Nothing to worry 'bout." They began to leave the hen house, with a basket full of eggs each. Harry shut the door to the enclosure that held the hens, which were magically charmed to lay extra eggs.

"Ha! Wait till Fleur sees you! She'll have a fit!" Ron suddenly exclaimed. Harry looked up at him, and laughed as Ron began to imitate her. "Ooh poor Hawwy! Ve vill have to post pone ze wedding!"

Harry laughed louder and motioned to throw an egg towards Ron. Ron responded to actually throw one back, which hit him hard, exploding egg all over his shirt.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed before lobbing another two back at his best friend.

Ron gave him a comical look before shouting, "Oh you are so on! I am so gonna get you Potter!"

"Not if I get you first!" Harry cried before throwing another egg, then running for the sanctuary of a large fig tree.

"THAT'S NOT FAIR WE DIDN'T EVEN SAY GO!" Ron laughed as he ran after Harry, throwing another.

Harry darted out from behind the tree as he pelted two eggs as his friend, one missing, but the other exploding over his shorts. Ron quickly retaliated with another egg, which Harry caught in his hand and threw back.

"That's so not fair you cheated!"

Laughing Harry continued catching the eggs thrown by Ron, laughing uproariously as he tried to catch them himself. He cursed on the numerous times that the eggs broke in his hands upon impact. They soon both gave up, flopping down on the ground next to each other. "You are such a cheater Potter. I swear one day I'm gonna get you back for that."  
"Well you play keeper Weasley," he said emphasizing the use of his friend's surname. "I would have thought you could catch an egg."

"FYI Harry I catch giant quaffles! Not tiny little snitches!" he said with smile.

Harry laughed softly as he stared up into to the clouds, enjoying the comfortable silence between himself and his best friend.

"So how are the Dursleys? Still the same old boring, snobby, wizard hating muggles?"

"You pretty much covered it there didn't you," Harry said with a smile. "Same as they've always been."

'Man I think I'd go insane there. You can't even do magic there! Then again you can't here either! Ha!"

Harry pulled a face at his friend as he rolled over and whacked him on the stomach playfully. "Not long now Weasley and you'll be strung by your ankle to the ceiling. And it won't be me that takes you down!"

"I'd like to see tha-"

"Boys!" cried Mrs Weasly. "What are you doing!?"

Harry jumped up in surprise to see her hovering over them, he laughed at Ron as he too jumped up in shock.

"Hi," they both said guiltily.

"Where are all my eggs?"

"Ahhh…yes…the eggs…" Harry replied trying not to laugh. "There weren't many at all. We only got these ones," he quickly picked up the two half baskets of eggs and showed them to her.

"There were so many when I had a peek this morning! What happened to them?"

"Ahhh..." began Ron. "Well they…umm…got dropped!" he said quickly as he turned to look at Harry. "Didn't they mate."

"Yes! Yes Ron dropped them."

"I most certainly did not drop them! You did!" Ron said in dismay.

"I did not! You did. Look they're all over you!" Harry said laughing. "I mean look! I haven't got any o-" he faltered as he looked down to see his shirt covered in egg.

"Ahhh yes about that," he said smiling guiltily even though he knew Mrs Weasly knew exactly what they had been doing.

"Lovely day isn't it mother?" Ron said cheerfully breaking the silence.

"Yes it is, isn't it," she replied comically as she took the two baskets of eggs from Harry. "Lovely day for an egg fight that is," she muttered under her breath with a small smile.

Harry and Ron laughed loudly as she turned and headed back into the Burrow, quickly followed by the two boys still laughing. They headed up the stairs to their shared bedroom at the very top, where a camp bed had been set up for Harry, and they quickly changed out of their egg-covered clothing.

"Where has Ginny been today?" Harry asked curiously as he pulled his shirt over his head. "I haven't seen her all day."

"Oh she's in Diagon Alley with Fleur and Isobelle, another of Fleur's friends. They're getting finishing touches on their bridesmaid dresses. Its sorta strange, Ginny has really warmed to Fleur since, well the whole Bill thing and all that."

"Hmmm. I guess they all just needed a chance to get to know each other."

"Yeah. Oh by the way Sirius will be here for tea tonight. And Hermione's arriving tomorrow after noon."

Harry smiled again at this; he did miss both Hermione and Sirius. Letters were just not the same as them in person.

"Come on we better go down, Mum's probably got more jobs for us to do," said Ron, pulling Harry from his thoughts.

He followed Ron downstairs, both chatting idly as they came into the lounge room. They stopped as they saw Ginny in there now showing her mother her dress; which was concealed by the long black bag that held it.

"It looks beautiful darling."

"Thanks. I can't wait to finally wear it on Saturday."

"Saturday? Isn't the wedding on Monday?" Harry said out loud, to announce their presence.

Ginny turned around, a look of shock on her face. She squealed as she franticly sealed the bag, trying to hide the dress, before laughing as she made her way over to Harry with a sheepish grin on her face.

"Hi! How long have you been here?" she said as the two gently hugged.

"I got here this morning," he replied as they parted. "Well come on show us your dress."

"No!" she exclaimed. "You can't see it! You'll have to wait."

"Awww! That's so not fair," he whined with a smile, as he saw Mrs Weasley out of the corner of his eye pick up her dress. "I'll take this up for you Ginny."

"Thanks Mum, and whoa what happened to your face?"

Harry sighed outloud as her retold his lie again. She laughed good heartedly, as she slapped him on the arm and headed up stairs. However he could not shake the feeling that she like every body else, was not quite convinced. How ever he breathed with relief, That wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be. He thought.

As the twins had come home for dinner that night, Fred and Harry set the table that evening, chatting as they did so.

"So why is the wedding on Saturday? Wasn't it on Monday?" Harry asked as he laid out knives.

"Long story. The wizard, who was supposed to perform the ceremony cancelled, he had over booked. And because we are paying less, we got the shove. Git."

"Yeah what a git," Harry agreed.

There was a brief silence as they continued laying out cutlery, before "So what happened between you and my little sister? She said you two aren't a couple any more."

Harry paused, choosing his words carefully before saying, "I didn't want to make her a bigger target than she already was, with what happened at the school and all that."

Fred looked at him incredulously, before chuckling, "Very funny Harry. No seriously what was wrong?"

Harry stopped in his tracks. "I was being serious."

Fred also stopped in his tracks, and stared at him from the other side of the table.

"You're being serious?" Harry nodded to his question. Fred laughed loudly as he began,

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard since George claimed that I had a crush on Verity! What, you don't want 'you know who' to know you're a couple?"

"Yeah. That might make her a big target."

"Your not being serious are you?"

"Yes I am actually," Harry replied defensively as he continued setting out the knives.

"Well that doesn't make sense at all. You obviously have feelings for her, and therefore Snape and Malfoy would know. And don't you think that's the type of information you know who would know by now anyway?"

Harry fell silent at these words. Yes, he had thought about that. Of course Voldemort would know how he felt by now, he's not that big of an idiot. He didn't know what to say to Fred so he stayed silent.

Fred dropped the subject at Harry's silence, realizing he had obviously made his point.  
They continued setting the table with some more idle chatting, finishing just as there was a loud knock on the front door.

"That will be Sirius!" Mrs Weasly called out from the kitchen. "Could some one get the door for him please?"

Harry smiled as he hurried to the front door and began opening the locks. He opened it and was immediately engulfed in a hug from his Godfather. Harry smiled widely as they parted, he looked up to see the silly grin on Sirius' face, but this obviously the wrong thing to do-

"What the hell happened to you!"


	4. Chapter 4

Harry lay in bed, thinking hard as he listened to Ron's steady snores. He didn't quite know what to think about what Fred had said the other day. Obviously Voldemort would know by now that he and Ginny had been a couple. Everybody through out the school had known, much to the dismay of some girls. He smiled as he thought of their first kiss in the common room, how many couples had their first kiss like that.

He rolled over trying to push all thoughts of Ginny out of his head, but everything just kept sort of coming back to her. They had had to spend a lot of their time together the past few days, helping prepare for the reception which would be held at the burrow after the ceremony. The groomsmen had gotten the shock of their life when they learned that they were expected to dance at the reception, and Harry's thoughts had flown back to the Yule Ball, thought which had sent him into fits of laughter. Lucky for he and Ron, Mrs Weasleys was quite the teacher, and he was not so worried anymore.

He sighed as he rolled over to his other side, trying to get to sleep. A pensieve would be useful right now, Harry thought as he tried to get comfortable. He sighed softly as his thoughts drifted back to the lies he had told everybody. No matter how many times he confirmed it to everybody, he could not shake the nagging feeling that not everybody was very convinced. It was Friday tomorrow, one day until the wedding and he knew he would have to go back to Surrey on Sunday. He was definitely not looking forward to this. He loved every minute he had sent with the Weasleys, Sirius and who ever else stopped by. The thought of going back to the Dursleys and once again isolating himself was awful to say the least. He sincerely hoped that his Uncle had calmed down, and would not hit him again, if he had to put up with that crap again he would go permanently insane.

He soon drifted off to sleep as he listened to Ron's steady snores. However he had not been the only person still awake. Mr Weasley and Sirius sat downstairs, a bottle of butterbeer each, quietly discussing the strange bruises that had befouled his face.

"What do you mean you're not sure he definitely fell Arthur?" Sirius questioned, worried about what his answer may be.

"I don't know. It is a very original excuse when you're covering something up isn't it."

Sirius paused at this, "Covering up? What could he possibly be covering up?"

Mr Weasley looked uncomfortable at this; he squirmed slightly before answering.

"Well, we should consider that maybe he came off worst in a fight with his cousin, or maybe even his Uncle."

"What? You mean like his Uncle hit him?"

"It's a possibility, but maybe he did fall down the stairs, we just don't know Sirius. I just think it seems a little strange."

"It can't be that Arthur," Sirius said, more to himself than Mr Weasley. "I mean Harry would tell us if his Uncle had belted him. He's atleast tell somebody."

The two men sat in silence for some time. Both in deep thought about their short, but meaningful discussion before Sirius broke the silence.

"I should let you go to bed Arthur," he stood up, placing his empty butter beer on the coffee table. "Big day tomorrow getting the boys some dress robes."

"OK. I'll see you at the ceremony if not tomorrow."

"Yeah sure thing," Sirius replied with a smile as they shook hands, before turning to head out the back door, which was closest.

"He's alright now." Mr Weasley said, referring to Harry. Sirius stopped in his tracks for a moment, as Mr Weasley continued.

"He's with us now. And it won't be long until he never has to go back there."

Sirius breathed in deeply as he replied, "Yeah I know. Thanks Arthur."

"How do we look?" Charlie asked his father, as he and his groomsmen stood in a line at Madame Malkins, each wearing the same light blue shirt, black pants and black formal robes.

"Magnificent. I like the blue."

Smiles broke out among the groomsmen, relieved they had found something at the last minute. "Well what do you reckon Bill?" said the twins in unison. "It is your wedding."

Bill fell silent as he studied everybody, including himself.

"I like them. Let's take them," he said with a smile. His wounds were healing fast for what they were, and he had gotten back most of his original good looks, and his personality. His craving for raw meat was still as obvious as ever, and worsened every full moon. Thankfully though as Remus has predicted, he did not transform into a werewolf at all.

"Son, you're not going to wear those boots tomorrow are you?" Mr Weasly said with a smirk as they entered their changing rooms to redress.

"Ahhh maybe not the boots," he called out in reply. "But I'm wearing my fang earring. And I'm not getting a hair cut like Mum keeps nagging me to."

Harry smiled as he came out now fully dressed holding the clothes he had been wearing. It was typical of Bill to want to wear those items on his wedding day. A formal wedding was not going to stop him wearing those things.

He sat down next to Mr Weasley and asked, "So where exactly is the wedding held?"

The older man smiled as he answered, "Well in the morning all you boys are getting ready at Sirius's house, so that the girls and Fluer's family can have the Burrow to themselves, so you'll be staying at his place this evening. And then were all walking to the little park which is only about 15 minutes walk from there. The park is quite elegant actually."

"Yeah I tell you what Mum's gonna be going crazy with all those French people there tomorrow," George remarked as he too exited his change room and sat down on the remaining chair. "Fluer's Mother hardly speaks English from what I've heard."

"Gee that would be fun. When is her family arriving?"

"Late tonight," Charlie answered as he too finished redressing. They waited patiently and not long after Fred, Ron and Bill emerged. They paid for their new clothing and had just left Madam Malkins when they ran into Sirius and Remus.

"Done already?" Remus said.

"Well come on show us what you bought," Sirius said as they began walking.

"It's all wrapped up though!" Ron exclaimed, brandishing the packages that were wrapped in brown paper. "We'll show you in the morning."

"Anyway we better get back to the shop brother," Fred said to George.

"Yeah we left Verity in charge. We shall see you guys tonight!" With a wave they quickly departed, just as Mr Weasley suggested that they do the same.

"Your Mother will be going spare with worry boys. We were supposed to be back an hour ago."

"Feel like coming to my place a bit early? I've got something I need your opinion on." Sirius said to Harry.

"Yeah sounds good," he replied.

"I'll get the boys to bring your things tonight for you," said Mr Weasley, upon hearing this.

"Thanks. Tell everyone I'll see them tomorrow for me."

"Will do."

Harry and Sirius waved goodbye to them as the Weasleys headed towards the brick exit of Diagon Alley. They too quickly made their way out of Diagon Alley shortly after, and they sat in overgrown back yard of 12 Grimauld place talking idly about anything that came to mind.

"I bet you're glad Mrs Weasley helped get rid of those bruises for you."

Harry laughed before answering. "Well it was starting to be painful to show any facial expressions, so yeah very glad."

His Godfather laughed loudly at this, causing Harry to crack a wide smile.

"So how is life with our favorite muggles these days?"

"Ahhh they're still the same old, boring, superficial, muggles that we all hate. Nothing new of course."

Sirius nodded in agreement, and they fell into a comfortable silence. When it began to darken and get cooler, Sirius broke the silence by saying,

"You know Harry, there's nothing you can't tell me, or ask me."

Harry was slightly taken aback at this statement. Of course he knew that, even though he didn't always do it.

"I know," he said simply, as he turned to face his Godfather with a small smile. "But since were on the subject of questions, where do babies come from?"

Sirius stopped a look of shock on his face. "Well…um," he spluttered. "Well…when a Mummy-"

"Sirius," Harry said with a laugh at Sirius' reaction. "You don't have to answer that question."

Confusion etched his face, as he jumped up and said, "Why you little tricker! You'll pay for that!" He quickly leaned down and launched at Harry, with every intent of tickling him until he begged for mercy. Harry quickly jumped out of the way, still laughing merrily.

Saving himself from anymore tickling attempts, he blurted out in a rush, "So what was it you needed my opinion on!?"

Sirius stopped dead, and a boyish grin lit up his face as he said, "It's inside, come on."

Shaking his head at his Godfather, Harry traipsed after Sirius into the kitchen, where he slapped a Muggle newspaper onto the bench. Still maintaining his boyish grin he flicked to the page he desired, and pointed to the section he was looking at. Curiously Harry leaned in to look at the advertisement.

"Why am I looking at a Muggle house advertisement?" he questioned.

"Because," Sirius said, waving his hands around slightly. "This is the house I want to buy."

"Oh," Harry replied slightly confused. "Why?"

With the air of having explained this before, he began, "Well I just decided that I can't live here much longer. This house is so depressing, especially with my mother's portrait around. I need a fresh start, and this is my fresh start."

Harry looked back at the advertisement, which read:

This traditional double story home, boasts of open living spaces and three spacious bedrooms plus study. The large open plan kitchen is perfect for the budding cook with plenty of storage space. The formal and informal dining areas are inviting and classy, while a traditional fireplace warms the living room. The front porch invites you into the small but practical foyer, and the back porch to a spacious backyard. This warm and inviting home is perfect for any family, great or small.

"It looks great. So you're definitely buying it?"

Sirius nodded. "But I still have one question about it all."

"Yeah?"

Sirius took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words he had rehearsed the night before. "Do you want to move in with me?"

Shock coursed through Harry's mind. Move in with Sirius? What a stupid question.

"Well that's a stupid question. Of course I'd want to move in with you. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I didn't know if you still wanted to. You said you did when you were younger, so I just thought I might ask again," he said, his voice trailing off slightly.

"Of course I do you dolt!" Harry said slapping him on the arm.

Relief washed over Sirius' face, they sat down as Harry fired him with questions.

"So why near a Muggle village? And why out of town?" he said looking at the address.

"Ahhh the peace and quiet of the country. And it's not that far out of town. 20 minute walk to where all the muggles live."

Harry leaned back in his chair, still curiously studying the advertisement. He looked at the old fashioned exterior, he realized with a smile that the white paint was peeling. But he didn't care. He began to grin like a Cheshire cat as he asked, "So when are we moving in?"

Sirius stopped mid sentence, to answer. "Well, Remus is going to help me go through this place while you're back at the Dursleys. We'll get some of the furniture nobody uses any more, and we'll move that in as soon as we can. And then when you turn 17, you can come and move your things in. How's that sound?"

"Leaving the Dursleys has never looked this appealing. I can't wait."

"Wait for what?" a voice called out from the lounge room.

"Hey Ron," they said in unison, as Harry and Sirius got up to see him dusting off ash from the floo network.

"Hey," he replied as Charlie arrived in the fireplace with another whoosh.

"Wait for what?" Ron asked again.

Harry and Sirius looked at each other.

"Should I tell them, or you?"


	5. Chapter 5

The bright sunlight of Saturday morning streamed through the bare window, straight onto the face of a dark haired boy. Harry Potter pulled the blanket over his head as he curled up into a tight ball, not wanting to wake up this early. However the sun had other ideas, and it shone right through the blanket Harry had pulled over his face. He sat up right with a groan, careful not to wake Ron.

We'll have to start getting ready soon. He thought to himself as he pulled an oversized wooly jumper over the graying T-shirt and track pants he often wore to bed. Rubbing his eyes he made his way downstairs, stifling a yawn as he entered the kitchen to where Remus was reading the morning paper.

"Morning," Remus said, as he sipped his coffee. "Want one?" he said pointing towards the kettle that sat motionless on the stove.

Harry managed a "Yes please," through another large yawn, which he tried to stifle.

Remus flicked his wand towards the kettle and it and a mug scooted along the top of the table to pour itself for him.

"You know you are just like your father in the mornings," he said observing Harry.

"Hmmm?"

Laughing slightly he continued, "One morning bright and bubbly, the next a walking zombie."

"Ha ha ha," Harry replied sarcastically as he took a sip. "You know I've been around about four days, and still no one has told me what time the wedding is being held."

"The wedding? It's not being held until five o'clock this afternoon," Sirius answered as he too entered the kitchen, clad in only his pajama pants.

"What?" Harry said in dismay, through another yawn. "Awww I'm going back to bed."

"No you're not, so you better start hoping the caffeine kicks in," Sirius said as he too poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Why not?" Harry said in outrage.

"Because. I want to show you the house this morning."

Harry stopped to consider this argument, before asking, "So how are we getting there?"

"Apparation."

Harry's spirits fell slightly, as he remembered the last time he had apparated was with Dumbledore.

Remus noticed the look on his face, and saved the young man from anymore though by saying, "Why don't you go get dressed. Try not to wake up Ron though, I'm sure you wouldn't want to do that," he said with a twinkle in his eye, which much rivaled Dumbledore's.

Harry nodded as he downed the rest of his drink, and headed to his upstairs bedroom that he shared with Ron. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, before heading back downstairs to the kitchen. On his way down he met up with Bill who was coming up.

"Nervous yet?" he asked.

"Nah!" he said, with a laugh. "Just as long as I don't trip or anything I'm all good."

Harry smiled as he continued his way downstairs.

"Ready?" he said as he came to the kitchen.

"I am. But you haven eaten anything." Sirius said, now also fully clothed.

"But I'm not hungry."

"Tough. Have some toast."

Groaning melodramatically, he quickly spread some jam over a piece of toast that Remus hadn't wanted, and began eating.

"So do I get to choose my own room?" he said between mouthfuls.

"As long as you don't try to shot gun my room. My room is all picked out. It has this thing muggles call an einsuite. Any idea what that is?"

"Mmm. It's just a bathroom that joins directly to the bedroom. Muggles make it out to be a bigger deal than it is." Harry said as he finished the last piece.

"Ahhh that bathroom. Hmmm. Well come on. Out the back so that we can go," Sirius said, the boyish grin from the day before coming back.

He quickly ushered Harry out the back, saying hello to Kingsley as he entered the headquarters. Soon enough Harry felt the awful compressing sensation that he had become accustomed to when apparating side along. When he found himself able to breathe fully again, he and Sirius were side by side on a Muggle road. Harry looked around to see paddocks of green grass stretching out for yards, without another house in sight.

Harry turned right around to face the house that would soon be his home. He smiled at the grandeur about it, even though it was a relatively old house. Harry turned to look at Sirius, who was in turn looking at him, awaiting a reaction.

He smiled again as they began to walk the old pavered path towards their new house. As the climbed the stairs up onto the porch that spread across the front, and around the right side of the house, Harry mentioned, "You know one day I'll be getting a tattoo like yours."

Sirius let out his dog like laugh before replying. "The day I let you get a tattoo is the day Voldemort hands out candy and dresses up at Halloween."

They both laughed at this as Sirius pulled a silver key from his pocket. He inserted it into the keyhole and twisted.

"Welcome home Harry," he said as he pushed the door open to reveal the inside.

Harry breathed as he began taking in the sights around him. The house was well lit from the sun, due to plenty of windows, and it seemed well planned out. He stepped inside and looked around.

"Ahhh well this is the dining room here. And ahhh through that arch is to the kitchen, but we'll get to that."

He looked to where he was pointing, the large open space to his left, which would soon be filled by a dining table, and to the open arch, through which he could see the kitchen.

"Oh over here," Sirius said excitedly, as he walked ahead into a very large and welcoming room. "This is the lounge room."

His smile widening with Sirius' excitement, Harry looked around at the lounge room, his emerald eyes wandering to the large open fireplace, to the French doors which opened out onto the patio. He scanned over to his left again to see the kitchen fully, and next to that an area which must be the breakfast area that Sirius had described beforehand.

"And over here," Sirius walked past the kitchen into a small hallway. "Well through here, is a garage, no idea what it's used for but anyway. Uh the laundry, I don't know what muggles do to wash clothes but it's confusing. I mean look at all these things you have to connect to one stupid machine thingy!"

Harry smiled at his Godfather's confusion, but said nothing as he continued to talk.

"Here's a bathroom," he said as he opened a door to reveal a small but practical bathroom.

"Ha! Now my bedroom!" he opened the last door and they entered Sirius's large and sunny bedroom.

"It's awesome."

"You haven't seen anything yet. Look at this," he opened the door to another room inside his own, to reveal, "A walk in closet! You can actually walk inside it! Ahhh the things muggles dream up!"

Harry laughed loudly at Sirius' antics over a walk in closet. He too walked inside to see the inside of the room.

"Very nice."

" And the bathroom is behind you. Have a look!"

Smiling he turned around, and opened the door to look in side. Just like everything else it was slightly old fashioned, but nice all the same.

"Come on I'll show you upstairs," Sirius said grabbing Harry by the arm and dragging him along for fun.

"Substantially smaller upstairs, only some bedrooms and a bathroom, but you have to choose one."

The two later sat on the steps of the back porch, Harry having chosen the bedroom at the front end of the house.

"So what do you think overall?" Sirius asked.

"I love it! It's a great place. It has everything we need and more."

"Good Im glad you like it," Sirius said, putting an arm around Harry.

Harry sighed dramatically, as he said laughingly "Well were stuck with it now either way!"

"You watch your mouth kiddo. Don't forget I know exactly how ticklish you are." Sirius said teasingly. Harry laughed at this; yes he was quite ticklish sometimes. They sat together in a comfortable silence, looking at the trees that covered the slight hill that was their extremely large back yard.

"So, I'm starting to think it's time I begin completely fulfilling my Godfatherly duty, and finally ask you, 'why did you break you break up with Ginny?"

Harry stuttered, not at all prepared for this question. "Because I, I don't want Voldemort to find out, and then hurt her! That's all."

"Ahhh that's right, Fred told me that."

Harry blinked, slightly confused.

"Wait well if you already knew then why did you ask again?"

"To break the silence?"

Harry shook his head in disbelief, laughing again as he did so.

"You know she won't let this go. Ginny I mean. She won't just let you break up with her just because of one evil twit."

Harry sighed before answering. "Yeah I know. Fred reckons Voldemort already knows about us dating."

"Well I suppose Voldemort isn't as big of an idiot as we'd sometimes like him to be."

There was a moment silence, before they both said in unison. "Stupid Snivellus."


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey. How did it go?" Ron called out from the kitchen, as he heard the front door open, followed by a voice he recognized as Harry's.

Harry and Sirius entered the dark and musty kitchen to find Ron eating breakfast, his bowl piled with porridge. Harry smiled widely as he said, "It was great," he turned to look at Sirius. "I love it."

Harry sat down as he began to describe the house to Ron. "And it has this massive fireplace! And uh, oh verandahs and your Mum is going to love the kitchen. Lots of room, and the back yard is huge, I think were on a property like you are, and when we move in, Sirius is going to put a charm on the place so that we can play Quidditch and all that jazz."

Ron nodded his head as he listened intently. He frowned as he swallowed a particuly large mouthful of porridge before saying, "It sounds great. When are you moving in?"

"Ahhh Sirius is…some time next week, didn't you say?" he said looking at Sirius. Sirius nodded in agreement, and Harry continued. "And I'll be moving in on my birthday."

"Sounds good. I have to see this place soon."

"You will don't worry," Sirius said with a smile as he helped himself to some porridge,

"You've already had breakfast!" Harry said as he shook his head in wonder. He stood up and headed towards the stairs. "I'm going for a lie down. You know your disgusting the both of you."

"Nou aiir bod," Ron said, his eyes opening wide as he forced out those words through a mouthful of porridge.

"My point exactly," Harry turned and headed up stairs, chuckling at his best friend's strange eating habits.

He trudged upstairs before flopping down on his temporary bed, his mind reeling with the information that it had taken in that morning, with the questions he had. What furniture would his godfather and Remus choose? What would they do about the fact the house was designed by muggles for muggles? And what on Earth were they going to do about all those electrical points?

Mr Weasley will have a field day when he sees it. Harry though to himself as he got comfortable. He grimaced as he wished the window in this room had curtains to shield out the light. He folded his arm over his eyes to block out the light, as his mind wandered to the conversation he and Sirius had had about Ginny.

He sighed as he thought about the control that Voldemort had over his life, even when he was laying low. Since his return, Voldemort's presence in Harry's life had become more than over whelming. The danger of being possessed, the nightmares, the snake attacking Mr Weasley, Cedric's death, Sirius being injured at the Department of Mysteries, the list goes on. Why did it always have to be like this? Why did he and everyone around him have to suffer?

He sighed loudly again as he rolled onto his other side, trying in vain to get comfortable. He could not however shake these thoughts from his mind. Now he couldn't even be with Ginny, because he knew that eventually she would be used to get to him.

He rolled over again as he thought to himself, Why does it have to be this way?

But at that moment he could have sworn he heard a voice in the back of his head say, It doesn't.

Ginny lay on her bed in the early hours of the afternoon, finally getting a break from Fluer. As much as she had been warming to her soon to be sister-in-law, Fluer could still irritate the hell out of Ginny. Ginny had put on her dress atleast a thousand times so that Fluer could check that it was fine. They had gone over the itinerary for the day, where to be and when, heck Fluer had even made Ginny check to table settings for the reception, three times.

She was thankful to her mother, after she had sent her only daughter to her room for pulling faces behind Fluer's back. Her mother said she was supposed to be thinking about how sinful her actions had been. Yet she was thinking about other actions she'd like to be doing. Actions that were once again, downright sinful.

There was a knock on Ginny's bedroom door. She quickly opened it to find a windswept Harry standing in her doorway.

"This is crazy," he breathed as he looked her in the eyes with apprehension.

"I know," Ginny sighed, looking into those emerald eyes.

She then found herself wrapped in Harry's arms, kissing passionately.

Ginny grinned devilishly as she thought of the many dramatic ways she and Harry could get back together.

There was a tap on Ginny's shoulder; she turned around to see Harry standing very close to her, looking frantic. She looked down and realized he was pointing his wand at her.

"Ginny, if Voldemort won't let me have you then no one else can!" he said in a rush, as he pressed the wand harder into her stomach.

She looked at him incredulously, before pushing the wand away. "Shut up," she said as they came together in another passionate kiss.

Ginny giggled as she imagined Harry being the over jealous type. Her giggles continued as she thought of the next dramatic way they could make up.

"Ginny look!" Hermione said, pointing behind her. The crowd began to part as somebody began to sing.

"You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,"

"Who is that?" Ginny asked.

"You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you!"

"It's Harry!" Hermione said, pointing once again the singing was coming from. Ginny turned to see Harry in the middle of the dance floor, looking straight at her with those puppy dog eyes he had when he was trying to make up for something. The music started up and he began to sing again.

"I love you baby, and if it's quite alright,  
I need you baby, to warm the lonely nights,  
I love you baby, trust in me when I say!  
Oh pretty baby, don't bring me down I pray,  
Oh pretty baby, now that I've found you stay,  
And let me love you baby let me love you!!!!!!!!"

Ginny roared with laughter at this thought. She rolled around on her bed at the bizarre image of Harry singing a song to get them back together. She gasped for air and clutched her stomach as she put 'Hear Harry sing' on her mental list of things to do before death.

Her laughter was cut short by a loud booming knock on her door.

"Ginerva Weasley!" her mother shouted as she opened the door. "You're supposed to be thinking about what you have done!"

Ginny tried to pull a straight face for her mother, but the image in her mind kept popping back up to complicate this simple action. She sniggered as she put her head in her hands, and managed to gasp out, "Sorry Mum."

Molly Weasley pulled a strange face at her only daughter's laughter. "Well what's so funny then?" she said softening.

Ginny laughed again before replying, "You don't want to know mum, you don't want to know."

"Hmmm," Mrs Weasley replied. "Ok then. But get up, you've been here long enough. Time to get dressed. Fluer's mother wants to start doing hair. Well atleast I think so, it's a bit hard to tell with the accent." Her mother said as she left the room.

Ginny sighed as she got up and began to redress, this time in her bridesmaid dress. She looked at it for a moment, wondering what Harry would think. But once again her over active imagination went straight back to Harry's love melody, and she burst out laughing once again.


	7. Chapter 7

Bill rubbed his hands together nervously, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for his bride to arrive.

"Nervous brother?" Charlie questioned from beside him with a cheerful demeanor.

Bill and his five groomsmen stood in a line, all slightly nervous about the ceremony before them, but none more than the groom himself.

"No," he said turning to look at his brother. "What's there to be nervous about?"

"Nothing," Charlie said knowingly. The two brothers stood silently, as everybody else continued their chatter. Charlie leaned close to his brother and whispered. "It's always traditional for the bride to be late you know."

"Yeah I know," Bill said sighing.

"Stupid tradition," Charlie replied with a laugh. It was all Bill needed to release the tension in his chest. He too laughed as he looked around the crowd that had gathered to see he and Fluer marry.

Suddenly the guest fell silent, heads turned around. Music began to play a slow melody that Bill did not know, as the first of the wedding party entered the large enclosure of trees where the ceremony was being held.

Gabrielle, now a young lady of twelve, entered wearing a royal blue bridesmaid dress, which came over one shoulder, but not the other. She smiled at her Mother and Father who were sitting in the front row with the Weasleys. She walked all the French grace she could muster and stood to the opposing side to the groomsmen.

Fluer's friends Isobella, Elizah and Amelia entered after her, wearing the same dress, and when his sister entered he knew who would be next. He stood a little taller, and the guests stood up as Fluer entered. He smiled widely as she walked gracefully down the aisle towards him. She reached Bill and he took his hand in hers before whispering, "You look beautiful."

"Need any help Mrs Weasley?" Harry asked entering the kitchen.

The wedding reception had begun; people were standing around discussing the beautiful wedding ceremony that had taken place. Many people from the order were present, including many of Bill and Fluer's friends and family. He had never seen or met so many red heads in one place. However it was only the one red head that was bothering him. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her, and Sirius kept giving him that knowing look every time he was caught at it.

It wasn't his fault Ginny's dress looked beautiful on her, or that her fiery red hair kept glistening in the dying sunlight. So to spare himself the obvious temptation, he had retreated to the kitchen to see if Mrs Weasley needed any help.

"Oh Harry dear! Well, you can stir that sauce for me. There's not really that much to do, everybody has bought food of some description, which does make cooking easier." Harry smiled at this reaction, knowing full well that Mrs Weasley was only more than happy to be cooking dinner for her Son's wedding. He approached the stove and began stirring with a wooden spoon.

"Oh Harry put an apron on dear. You don't want to get sauce all over your nice new shirt now do you," she said brandishing a floral apron in his direction. He obliged and fastened it on as Mrs Weasley flicked her wand at a few things. Various platters of home cooked food flew towards the table, ready to be served.

"Here we are," she said cheerfully, flicking her wand at the pot Harry was stirring. He dropped the spoon as the pot rose up and began to pour itself into a white ceramic jug that flew underneath just in time.

"What else?" he asked as he put the spoon into the sink.

"Nothing my dear," Mrs Weasley replied turning towards him and pinching his cheek affectionately. "Go out and enjoy yourself. Just don't forget to take off the apron. Ronald would laugh himself silly."

"Oh," Harry said taking off the apron, before heading back outside, this is why I went inside, so I wouldn't have to go out side. He thought to himself with a laugh. Oh well no use being antisocial.

He approached Ron and Hermione, who were in deep conversation about the wedding.

"It wasn't that different to a Muggle wedding you know Ron," Hermione said in earnest.

"Yeah yeah yeah but did you see Fluer start to cry halfway through? What a nutter."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as she greeted Harry.

"You look nice," He said, referring to her light purple dress underneath her robes.

"Thankyou. Where have you been?"

"Just helping Mrs Weasley. Dinner's almost ready," he replied.

"Wrong there mate, it is ready. Come on," Ron said rubbing his stomach. "Im starved."

"I'm on a different table; I'll see you later," Hermione said as the group parted.

Ron and Harry approached the high table where the wedding party would be seated and sat down next to each other.

"You know, what exactly is the point of having groomsmen Harry?"

Harry considered this for a moment before answering, "How do you expect me to know? You're right though all we did was stand there and watch."

"Hmmm," Ron replied as platters of food magically appeared on their table as it did the others. "Ooh, great food."

Ron began piling up his plate with roast beef as Fred and George sat either side of them.

"Some wedding huh. It's been years since we've seen Auntie Muriel," Fred said in wonder.

"Yeah I didn't realize she was really that old. I was practically yelling out my name to her. Memories not too good either," George added, shoveling mashed potato into his mouth.

Harry laughed quietly at this as Ron continued. "Well there's one family member that I'm glad isn't present."

There was a murmur of agreement between the four, as Harry asked, "Why didn't he come?"

"He and Dad had another big fight, so Bill told him not to come," Fred answered.

"Percy still wont admit that he was wrong about the whole you know who thing, and still reckons that Dad's reputation is bringing him down in the ministry," George continued.

"And he won't apologize for calling you unbalanced and violent," Ron finished.

"Oh. OK."

They fell quiet as the rest of the wedding party sat down and also began to eat.

"Hey guys," Ginny said as she plopped herself down across from them. "Ugh, if Auntie Muriel wants to pinch my cheek one more time I'm going to go insane. And she's dying to meet you Harry," she said pointedly, "Actually half our extended family is."

Well that does explain why everyone seemed to be looking at me a lot. He thought to himself.

Harry forced a smile at this thought, and replied weakly, "Great."

Everybody laughed at this, knowing how much he hated unwanted attention.

Harry looked around at the many people who had come, spotting Sirius and Hermione in deep conversation at a nearby table. However all eyes turned towards Bill and Fluer as they sat down, Fluer still in her modest wedding dress. The chatter continued as everybody continued eating the magnificent feast that everybody had helped prepare in some way. They continued eating and talking as the sun fully set, and the many floating candles lit up. It wasn't long before soft music began to play, and Bill and Fluer stepped onto the dance floor to begin their first dance as husband and wife.

"You boys better not step on my feet when we all dance together," Ginny said as she watched her brother and sister in law. Harry felt a whooping sensation in the pit of his stomach as the beast inside him began to applaud. Yes, he would get to dance with Ginny. Atleast now he had an excuse to look at her, he thought to himself forcing back a smile.

"Don't worry sis," Fred and George said in unison. "We will."

Ginny rolled her eyes at this and then asked, "You wont will you Harry."

"No," Harry said melodramatically, "Only a little bit."

Mrs Weasley stood up and made her way over to their table. "Come on you lot," she whispered loudly in their ears. "Get up and join them!"

Harry sighed, Now?

"Awww Mum! Now?" Ron moaned from his chair. Harry began to stand and everybody followed suit, with the exception of Ron.

"Yes now! Come on get up!" She flustered about and began to pair the groomsmen up with the Bridesmaids. "Here, now Harry dear, this is Fluer's friend from France, Elizah."

A young French girl, whom he vaguely recognized from the Triwizard Tournament, stepped forward, wearing the same style dress as the other bridesmaids. He took her hand and they followed Charlie and Isobella onto the makeshift dance floor. Not knowing exactly what to say, he put his hand on her waist and took her other, before saying,

"Nice wedding hey,"

Elizah, paused, looking slightly confused as she put her remaining hand on his shoulder and they began to move on the spot.

"Jene sais pas anglais?" she replied.

"Sorry?"

"Jene sais pas anglais, parlez-vous francais?" she replied hopefully.

"You don't speak English do you," Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"Jene comprends pas," she replied laughing.

"Ok," Harry said slowly, "This could be a very interesting conversation."

"Je n'ai aucune idee qu'est-ce qui se passe."

Harry laughed loudly as she continued, "Ce n'est pas grave."

They continued this random chatter, which neither of them understood until the song finished, when they stopped dancing and changed partners. Harry was glad to see that others had also joined them by this stage. He leaned down slightly trying to interpret the words his new partner was saying to him through her accent, as they danced as well.

"I whaz so exchited zoo be meeting you Hawwy!" Gabrielle said as she grinned up at him.

"After you saved moi from zee lake, who could nhot?"

Harry simply nodded his head at this, once again not knowing exactly what to say to her.

"I've been telling all my-" she stopped mid sentence as she was tapped on the shoulder by Ginny.

"Can I cut in Gabrielle?" she asked sweetly. Gabrielle pouted and let go of Harry, then proceeded to stalk off in search of her mother.

"Isn't it my job to cut in?" Harry asked with a smile as he placed his hands on her waist, very aware of how fast his heart had begun to beat.

"Well you looked like you needed saving from Gabrielle."

Harry laughed at this. "I needed saving when I was dancing with Elizah. She doesn't speak a word of English."

Ginny laughed, and the beast inside his chest sat a little taller, having made her genuinely laugh.

"Yes, I too found that out the hard way. Poor thing, Fluer and her family have been translating for her ever since she got here last night."

They began to sway on the spot, neither of them knowing exactly how to dance fashionably.

Ginny sighed as she began, "You know it doesn't have to be like this Harry."

His breath caught in his throat, as he replied in question, "Like what?"

"Like this," she said looking up at him. "The forced conversations, the awkward smiles. Being friends isn't going to get me killed."

"Our conversations are not forced," he replied as tried to focus on not stepping on her feet.

"You must admit it's not like when we were friends before is it."

He shrugged in a non-committal kind of way, agreeing even though he didn't want to fully admit it. Obviously things were different now.

"You know, 'You know who' would have known about our relationship from the moment it started. The whole school knew, and Snape and Malfoy are not idiots unfortunately."

"Yeah I know. Fred and Sirius took the liberty of pointing out what I already knew," he said smiling slightly as he looked at her. But he looked away as he said, "But it's more complicated than that, you know it is."

"Oh," was all that she said. Ginny looked at the ground for a few moments as they continued dancing. She then all of a sudden perked up and said, "So when are you going to tell them?"

Harry did a double take, before asking, "Tell who what?"

Ginny looked at him incredulously. "Ron and Hermione. Tell them you can't be friends anymore."

Growing more confused than ever, he questioned, "Why would I tell them that?"

"Well if our relationship was putting me in danger, don't you think your relationship with them would be putting them in danger also?" she said with a smirk.

Harry stuttered at this sentence, but launched into his own. "Well that's obviously different."

"How?"

"Well…it just is!"

"But how?"

"Well, well I don't know exactly, but it is!"

"Harry you can't just keep protecting me like this. Just because we're not together doesn't mean you know who wouldn't hurt me if he wanted to. Together or not, he could still swoop down on us at any moment."

"Well, I don't want to give him anymore incentive than he already has."

"You know who doesn't need incentive. You know that Harry."

Harry fell completely silent at this, knowing that she and everybody else had made very good points.

"It's just," he began uncertainly. "It's so complicated, I need time to think some things through. That's all."

He looked down to see Ginny smiling ever so slightly.

"Does this mean we've reached a mutual understanding?"

He sighed before replying, "Yeah, I guess so." He looked into her eyes, and she smiled a little wider. She took a deep breath and said,

"Come on. Auntie Muriel really is dying to meet you."


	8. Chapter 8

Harry blearily opened his eyes, as the sounds of Mrs Weasley pottering around in the kitchen awoke him. He sat up from his sleeping bag on the lounge room floor rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked around beside him for his glasses and found them on the coffee table, putting them on he crawled out of his sleeping bag and stood up. Harry stretched as he made his way to the kitchen, being careful not to step on any of the Weasley children and Hermione who had given up their beds to family.

"Morning Mrs Weasley," he said as he entered the kitchen.

"Oh good morning dear. Sleep well?"

"Yeah. Good night last night wasn't it," he replied cheerfully as he put the kettle onto the stove to boil.

"Yes, Bill and Fluer seemed the enjoy it. That's what matters."

"Hmmm," he said with an agreeing smile. "Im just going to get dressed."

He looked at the regular clock, which read 8:05, before grabbing some clothing and quietly heading upstairs. In the bathroom he splashed cold water onto his face and rubbed a bit more sleep from his eyes. He sighed as he pulled on a T-shirt, remembering all the Weasleys Ginny had introduced him too. A few of them had stayed the night, and he was having some trouble remembering some names. He looked in the mirror trying to flatten his hair, but the mirror simply said, "You know there's no point in trying that."

He rolled his eyes as he headed back downstairs; he always had the feeling that the mirror had never really liked him. He heard chatter as he entered the kitchen and dining room area, and found some people already awake. There was Gerard who was Mrs Weasley's brother, sitting down with a lady whom he vaguely recognized as his wife Suellen. Sitting down also was a women, what's her name again? Annette?" he thought to himself.

"Morning," he said, to the room at large.

"Morning," they replied, Gerard looking up from the daily prophet.

He entered the kitchen again to see Mrs Weasley standing at the stove making sausages and eggs.

"Anything I can do Mrs Weasley?" he said hopefully.

"Yes, you can please slice and toast that loaf of bread for me please dear," she said indicating to the loaf of bread and sharp knife.

He nodded as she added, "Be careful we don't want you loosing a finger."

He smiled at this as she continued; "I forgot what it's like to be cooking for an army. Oh and Harry dear, Sirius is coming around lunchtime today to take you back to Privit Drive. I'm sure you're thrilled about that."

"Ecstatic," he said sarcastically with a smile, he began slicing the bread, careful not to cut himself. He quickly popped the slices one by one into the Muggle toaster Mr Weasley had charmed to cook at top speed. He caught each piece as it immediately popped up, and popped the next one in.

"Morning folks," George greeted as he entered the dining room, rubbing his head blearily.

"Morning," Harry replied as he put the last piece of toast on the plate. "All done. What else needs doing?"

"Hmmm, mix up some pancakes, enough for all of us and cook them up for me would you Harry?"

"Sure," Harry replied, he immediately went to the cupboard in search of some flour.

"George wake up your brothers and sister for me would you? Oh and Hermione also. There's work to be done."

"All right."

"Looking forward to moving in with Sirius Harry?" Mrs Weasley asked as she put the cooked sausages into the oven to keep warm. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Gerard look up from his paper, but he ignored this.

"Yeah definitely. Leaving the Dursleys has definitely never looked this appealing."

"Were popping around tomorrow to have a lo-"

"OUCH! RON!" George yelled out from the lounge room.

Mrs Weasley sighed at this outburst as Ron yelled back, "WHAT?"

"MUM!" George yelled. "HE HIT ME!"

"Oh shush you two! You'll wake up the whole house," she said angrily as she stalked out into the lounge room.

"Too late," Mr Weasley said as he came down the stairs.

"Now look what you've done." Harry could hear her fussing around in there, and he smiled at the thought of George still appealing to his mother.

"But he-"

"I don't care!"

"I was only waking you up and you swung one at me!" George said in outrage.

"I did not!"

"Whaz gon on?" Ginny said through a yawn as she abruptly sat up on the couch.

"Ron hit me!"

"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed tiredly.

"How could I? I was asleep!"

"Quiet both of you!" Mrs Weasley said working herself into a rant. "Ronald, go out and get some more eggs, now! George, wake up everyone else and go get dressed."

"But-" they said in unison.

"Butt's are for Muggle ashtrays boys now do what your mother says," Mr Weasley interjected; realizing this argument could become dangerous grounds.

Ron stalked off into the backyard heading towards the hen house, muttering under his breath.

"Never a quiet moment here is there Harry," Mr Weasley said cheerfully as he took some mugs from the cupboard and set them on the table, pouring mugs of coffee for everybody.

"That's common knowledge Mr Weasley," Harry said cheerfully.

"Isn't it ever," Mrs Weasley muttered as she re-entered the kitchen to look for sugar to go with the coffee. "Ginny would you wake Auntie Muriel up for me dear. You know what she's like about the thought of eating alone."

"Yeah an old nut that is," Ginny muttered to herself as she made her way up stairs.

"And make sure to help her down the stairs," Mrs Weasley called out after her.

"Morning!" someone said over cheerfully.

"Morning Rob," the room said at large.

Harry turned his head slightly to see Robert flop down into a chair and pour himself some coffee. Now he remembered who he was, he was the one that was always cheerful and optimistic about almost everything. Even Voldemort, Ginny had said. Harry let the now cooked pancake slide neatly onto a plate already stacked high, and then poured some more mixture onto the skillet he was using.

Charlie entered the kitchen, greeting everybody as he did. He and Harry were the only ones dressed, everybody else still in their pajamas.

"Morning Harry."

"Morning."

The back door shut loudly as Ron entered with a basketful of eggs for his mother. He dumped the basket on the kitchen bench and headed into the dining room, nearly knocking over his sister and Auntie Muriel. Ginny held her Aunt firmly by the elbow as she slowly sat her down at the dining room table.

Mrs Weasley took the cooked items out of the oven and put them onto the dining room table. She flicked her wand and sent plates and cutlery flying towards the table, however they sat neatly in front of each person, ready to be used. Harry tipped the last pancake onto the stack, before placing them neatly on the table. He then washed his hands quickly as Ginny whispered into his ear.

"Merlin Auntie Muriel is slow! She took forever to get down one flight of stairs!"

Harry tried to suppress a laugh at this, he felt a shiver go down his spine as he felt her breath on his neck.

He followed her as she sat down, and he took a seat next to Ron, who was already shoveling sausage and egg into his mouth, and Hermione who had also just sat down said,

"Eww Ron, take smaller bites!"

Harry laughed at his two friends' antics as he too helped himself to a generous helping of sausages and egg.


	9. Chapter 9

"Now are you sure you have all of your things Harry?" Mrs Weasley said, straightening the jacket he was wearing once again.

"Im sure."

"Well we'll send Errol with anything you may leave behind. Now mind that you take care of yourself while you're with the Dursleys. And don't forget to write often. We love hearing from you and Ronald has nothing better to do…" Mrs Weasley continued fussing over him as he hugged Hermione goodbye.

"Don't hesitate to write, and don't forget to write either. I'll be seeing you on your birthday so that's not too far away I suppose."

"Don't worry I wont forget to write. I wont have anything else to do," Harry replied.

She smiled at this, and he turned to hug Ginny, "Have fun if that's possible," she said to him.

"Ahhh it's definitely not possible. Until I start threatening my Cousin that's always fun."

She slapped him playfully on the arm, laughing, and he once again felt the slight whooping sensation in the pit of his stomach.

The backdoor opened with a bang, and Ron practically flew inside.

"Oh there you are mate, 'Forge' said you were leaving I didn't know whether to believe them or not," he said slightly breathlessly.

Harry shook his head as Ron gave him a large one-handed hug goodbye.

"I suppose Mum's already lectured you about writing and taking care of you're self."

"You suppose right," Harry said as they separated.

"Oh good I won't have to do it now. I'll see you soon. Not long till your birthday mate."

"No! Not long at all!" he said sarcastically.

Everybody laughed at this, while Sirius picked up one end of his trunk and said, "Come on kiddo I'm sure the Dursleys would be getting worried."

Harry laughed again at this before saying, "Bye everyone! See you soon!"

"Bye!" they all replied as he shut the door as he picked up his broomstick.

They walked in silence to the edge of the Weasley's property, where Sirius held out a feather quill with a smile. Realizing it was a Portkey Harry touched it with a finger, as Sirius counted down, "Three, two, one."

Harry felt the ever so familiar tug somewhere behind his navel, and his feet almost immediately slammed onto the perfectly manicured front lawn of the Dursley home. Sirius looked around franticly, before sighing in relief.

"Good. Nobody saw us."

Harry too sighed with relief, as he too looked around to see if any Muggles had spotted them.

"Well, this is it. Do you want me to come in?"

"Ahhh no that's fine, you know the Dursleys," Harry said off handedly.

"Ok then. Make sure you write to headquarters every three days, or someone will come along and see what's up alright."

Harry nodded at this, already knowing the routine.

Sirius seemed to take a deep breath as he said, "If it gets too much, or you just get bored, don't hesitate to catch the knight bus or to let us know you want to leave early alright."

Harry nodded again, "I will. I'll be alright," he said, not knowing if he actually would be.

"Right then," Sirius started. "Well I best be off. Don't forget to write." He finished, the pulled his Godson into a tight embrace.

"I wont," Harry mumbled into his chest, as his own began to feel uncomfortably constricted.

They parted and Harry dragged his trunk up the front steps and opened the front door. He wrenched his things inside the front door, then turned back to say goodbye, but Sirius was gone.

"Now stay up here and don't make any noise until I tell your Uncle you're home early," Harry's Aunt said coldly as she shut the door to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed, thinking about what his Uncle would think of him being back a few days early. He had told his Aunt he would be back in over a week, when he hadn't even been gone five days. He laughed as he imagined the look on his Uncle's face when his Aunt told him he was back already.

He flopped backwards so that he was lying down on his back. He sighed with boredom. He wished he were still back at the Burrow. There had always been something to do. Something to wash. Someone to talk to. A job to be done. Anything. What on earth was he going to do now? He couldn't spend forever wandering around the neighborhood, and because no body knew if Hogwarts would re-open, he had no homework as of yet.

He turned his head to face the calendar that counted down the days until he could leave forever, his birthday. 2nd of July it read. Twenty-nine days left. He thought to himself miserably. He sighed loudly as he stared out the window into the dying light. It was now nearing the end of the day, and his Uncle would be home any minute. He could hear his Aunt bustling around in the kitchen below him, and Dudley's favorite TV show playing loudly from the lounge room.

Right at that minute Hedwig flew into the open window, hooting softly. He focused his eyes on her and smiled. He wasn't sure exactly how long it would take her to fly from the Burrow back to the Dursleys', but he was glad she was here now.

"Come here girl," he said sitting up.

Hedwig spread he wings and gracefully flew over to his outstretched hand. He picked up an owl treat that he had ready and put it into her open beak, and she happily swallowed it, hooting softly again. He smiled as he absentmindedly stroked her feathers affectionately.

He was broken out of his reservoir by the sound of his Uncles new car sweeping into the driveway, followed by the slam of the car door and the front door. However he continued stroking Hedwig's feathers when a few minutes later, he heard the unmistakable sounds of his Uncles angry rants.

"Who is he to turn up on our doorstep and then come and go whenever he pleases? I tell you I won't have it anymore Petunia! I won't have it!"

"He'll be gone in a couple of weeks Vernon," Petunia said, trying to soothe her angry husband.

"He's done besmirching this household! Done!"

"Here have a scotch darling and sit down. Dinner is ready, your favorite."

Harry laughed softly, trust his Aunt to bribe him with alcohol and food.

Upon hearing the last part of the sentence, he decided he might as well go downstairs. He sighed with dread as he put Hedwig in her cage, purposely leaving the window open for her. He opened his door and quietly headed downstairs and into the kitchen where his Uncle and Cousin were already sitting.

"Hello," he forced out dully.

Dudley just stared at him with his piggy eyes, while his Uncle replied.

"Don't 'hello' me in that tone. You're back early. I have half a mind to kick you out right now," he said loudly.

"That would be nice," Harry muttered underneath his breath.

"What was that boy?" his Uncle demanded.

"I didn't say anything," he replied tonelessly.

He looked down at his plate, as his Aunt served him small serves of everything, then loaded up the plates of Dudley and her husband. He mentally rolled his eyes at this childish treatment, and began to eat. He quickly swallowed the overly salted beans and carrots, finishing as quick as he politely could. He forced his way through his small sausage, and then quickly took his plate to the sink; rinsing it before placing it and his cutlery into the dishwasher. He muttered quick thanks to his Aunt before heading down the hallway.

"OI! You wait right there!"

Harry clenched his eyes shut in frustration. He slowly turned around and headed back into the dining room, only to see his Uncle standing up from his meal looking livid once again.

"Yes?" Harry said, over politely.

His Uncle smirked before saying forcefully, "You still haven't explained why you are back early."

Dudley stopped eating and turned his eyes towards Harry awaiting a reaction, his Aunt also stopped halfway through chewing.

"I-The wedding I was in was last night, so I had to come home."

"Well why couldn't you stay with your abnormal friends longer?" he said, the vein in his forehead, steadily becoming more obvious.

"They, uh had things to do, I can't stay there forever," he said, trying to steer the conversation away from the real reason: Dumbledore.

"Well what about that Godfather of yours huh? Why can't he take you!" his Uncle spat, his voice becoming louder and louder as each word was spoken.

"He, umm he's moving house, he has to work," Harry lied. "Believe me I wish it wasn't the case."

"So what. You think that's it? You think you can just barge back into this house!" his Uncle said, almost shouting now. He slowly came around the table to be closer to Harry.

"Well do you?"

Harry groaned with frustration, guessing exactly where this fight would end up

Harry slammed the front door shut as he walked down the front path shaking slightly, still hearing his Uncle's furious rants behind him. He turned around as he reached the public footpath, half expecting his Uncle to follow him out. However nobody had followed him, he turned and began to run, desperate to get away from the scene, to get away from his Uncle. He followed the footpath, passing the various houses that were alive with life.

He forced himself to slow his pace down, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He forced himself to breath, going in and out, in and out. Harry could feel his heart in his throat, however it was slowing down, helping him to breathe more regularly. He stopped completely, leaning down with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, tried to force all thought of what had just happened out of his head. He drew in a shuddering breath as he stood straight again and clasped his hands together behind his head.

Great! He thought to himself. This is just great! Just peachy!

He realized that he should have just left before things got out of hand, as he knew they would have. He groaned in frustration as he kicked the ground angrily, as though it would take away what had just happened. He took his hands off his head and gently rubbed his stinging face from where his Uncle had hit him. He unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck, his arms, everywhere his Uncle had touched him, wanting to make the feeling go away. He clenched his eyes shut and smiled bitterly as he recalled how he had found the perfect chance to fight back. Harry rubbed the knuckles on his right fist, remembering the almost perfect punch he had thrown at his Uncles mouth, which had enabled him to get away from it all.

He began to walk along the path, his way lit by only the odd street lamp. It occurred to him that it probably wasn't safe out here at night.

Why not? He questioned himself. The Order will still be tailing every move I make outside the house anyway. And I'd rather take my chances out here than in there.

He marvelled at the way his Uncle could turn the simplest argument into a full-blown fight. A better report card than Dudley, missing the bus to school, coming back too early.

Harry shivered at the abnormal coolness of the summer night as he looked at the nearest sign. 'Rodgers Crescent' it read. He hadn't gone far thankfully. The young boy sighed knowing he would have to go back, and turned around. Yet somehow he knew he would definitely be entering via the window this time.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, Harry waited until his Uncle had left for his work until he came out of his room, not wanting to create another scene. As he stepped into the shower he began to dread the time when his Uncle would return home. He had certainly not been happy about his early return. He smiled at the thought of his Uncle popping open a bottle of expensive champagne to celebrate his departure. His Uncle probably had bought a bottle many years ago, and was simply waiting for the perfect time to open it.

He wished he could have stayed longer at the Burrow as much as his Uncle did, but he didn't want to go against Dumbledore's wish if he could help it. He moaned internally as he wished he had thought of a more original excuse for his old bruises, he was growing more and more sure that not many people fully believed him. He put his hand gently to his face to feel the angry red patch that had formed, grimacing slightly as it stung. He looked down at his elbow, thankful that even though it ached, it alone had not bruised.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, picking up his towel as he did so. He turned his head to the side to view his face, a small part of him hoping the patch had disappeared, even though he knew it would not have. He quickly dried and dressed, before heading quietly downstairs. Dudley's thunderous snored flowed unceremoniously through the house, and only his Aunt Petunia was awake.

"Good morning," he said stiffly, as he began to make himself a piece of toast.

She grunted to acknowledge his presence, before replying.

"You'll do well not to fight with your Uncle tonight," she looked pointedly at his face as she said this.

"He started it not me."

She fell silent at this, she stood looking at him for a moment, before putting an old apron on over the old clothes she was wearing and heading outside.

"Im planting begonias. Don't make a mess," she said coldly.

"Woah. A few crumbs," Harry muttered as his toast popped up and he began buttering. "That would be tragic."

He spread a little jam over the toast, and leant back against the kitchen counter. What was he going to do today? He thought to himself as he chewed his toast. He could go for a run, but it would be getting too hot now. He looked down at the toast he had been eating, before throwing it away. It had felt like chewing carpet, and he didn't feel very hungry.

He quickly cleared up the mess he had made and quietly made his was back to his bedroom upstairs. He flopped himself down at his desk, his chin in his hands, staring out the window.

This is what isolation does to you. He thought. Gives you time to think. Darn.

He sighed and turned around and surveyed his bedroom, looking for something to amuse himself for a while. He groaned as he leaned backwards to drag his school bag over. He opened it for the first time in weeks, and pulled out a few of his books. He leafed through his Herbology notes on rare mutations of the Venomous Tentacular.

In rare instances, His notes read. The Venomous Tentacular can mutate during early stages of growth, to become no more harmless or violent, than the average sunflower…

He flicked through his notes, having already read the information many times before as he studied for his previous exams. He dumped the book on the floor next to him, and he opened his transfiguration book to the first page.

The 6th Transfiguration NEWT course consists of two parts. 50% Practical 50% Theory…

He sighed as he flicked through his notes some more, quickly becoming bored of it as well. He groaned loudly as he also dumped that book on the ground. He stood up and began to pace his room in boredom, swinging his arms about so he felt as if he was atleast doing something.

Argh! What to do! He thought to himself as he continued pacing.

He let out a large sigh as he thought of doing this for the next twenty-eight days. Hedwig hooted softly at him from her perch in her cage. In frustration he flopped himself face down on his bed, being careful of his glasses.

I wonder exactly how long I can hold my breath for. He though to himself. Just to answer this question, he looked at his watch and took a deep breath. 1, 2, 3, 4. He knew Seamus had tried to beat a minute thirty, but had never reached it. 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. He began to feel his chest burn slightly, and he could clearly feel his heart beat and pulse. 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24. His chest was hurting considerably now, and he gave up, taking a breath. Harry looked at his watch, a quarter to ten. Well Dudley was no where near ready to surface from his bedroom, so why should he?

Harry propped himself up on his arms, and pulled back the blanket to reveal the plain blue sheet underneath. He ran his fingers along it until he came to the edge, and began to count the white stitches on the hem. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… He wished he had some sheep, atleast they'd be easier to count. He strained his eyes to count every one of them. 13, 14, 15, 16…His mind became blank as he forced himself to count every stitch. He was now determined to count every single one on the whole sheet. 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25…But wait, what if he had miscounted? What number was he even up to? Was it 26 or 25?

He groaned as he went back an inch or so, to start at the beginning, and began again.  
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…

It had begun to darken by the time Harry decided to head back to the Dursleys. After counting many times, he had confirmed there were exactly 1372 stitches along the first hem, he had given up counting, and had spent almost the rest of his day walking around Little Whinging. This superficial suburb had never been so boring or repetitive, most houses were modern, with their flash cars and perfectly manicured lawns and gardens.

He turned into Privit Drive, and automatically felt his spirit go down as he saw his Uncle's car parked in the driveway. He slowly wandered his way towards his childhood home, and quietly opened the door, moving swiftly upstairs. But not quietly enough.

"Boy! Get down here!" Harry's Uncle bellowed from the lounge room, as he was halfway upstairs. Harry shut his eyes in frustration, forcing down a groan of protest. He turned around and came back down the stairs and entered the lounge room, where his Uncle was placing a glass of scotch on the coffee table.

"Yes?"

His Uncle stared at him for a moment, before beginning. "I thought we discussed this boy. There is no coming or going whenever you please. You are to stay in the house!"

"What?" Harry said in outrage.

"You are to stay in the house, I won't repeat myself again. Lord only knows what you would get up to if we let you wander the streets by yourself!" he said loudly.

"What I would get up to?" Harry said questioningly.

"Yes. You live in this house, therefore I will control where you are and when!" he said raising his voice louder again.

"Oh let's talk about control here! Shall we?" Harry said scandalized, he too raising his voice in his anger. "What about the control you have over your son! Do you have any idea what he gets up to when he leaves this house?"

"Don't change the subject here boy!"

"What about that spate of broken windows in the area a few weeks ago. I wonder who that was!" Harry said thinking about the many broken car windows he was sure Dudley and his gang were responsible for.

"I told you not to change the subject!" his Uncle yelled, advancing towards him. Knowing better, Harry moved around the other side of the couch, they were now on opposing sides.

"What about that 11 year old kid that was beat up yesterday? Why don't we ask Dudley and Piers about him?"

"Haven't you learnt anything boy? Don't lie to me or else! You know how this kind of disrespect is dealt with!"

"Disrespect?" Harry questioned sarcastically. "Lets talk about respect aswell shall we? What about the way you respect me huh?"

His Uncle fumed at this statement, Harry could see him turning red, and he knew he had hit a nerve.

Beginning to yell now, Harry continued. "What type of person beats on a 6 year old kid?"

"YOU DESERVED EVERY THING YOU GOT!"

"Deserved it?" Harry whispered hollowly, before yelling again. "What have I ever done to you! What have I ever done to any of you!"

"You besmirched our home with your abnormalness! That's what you did!"

"Abnormalness?" he questioned. "Look around you! It's not so abnormal now is it! It's part of your life now! You can't stop pretending!"

"When we took you in I swore we'd beat it out of you!"

"You can't beat the magic out of someone! It's not that simple, as you found out!" Harry yelled, he heard a small gasp from his Aunt in the kitchen, who had obviously been listening in.

"I have told you before! DON'T SPEAK ABOUT YOUR ABNORMALNESS ALOUD!" his Uncle bellowed, coming round the couch towards him. Harry didn't move, his anger taking control over him.

"Why didn't you just send me to an orphanage like Aunt Marge always says!"

Mr Dursley strode towards his young nephew grabbing him by the upper arm tightly, shaking him a little.

"YOU WOULD HAVE MADE EVERYONE SO MUCH HAPPIER!" Harry screamed at him, finishing off his last sentence.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU!"

"What?" Harry replied sarcastically again. "Oh you mean this! Magic! Magic! Magic! Magic!" he said, his voice becoming louder each time he said it until he was yelling again.

"Vernon the neighbors will hear!" Harry's Aunt rushed into the room, terrified at the thought of the neighbors hearing anything out of the normal.

"GO TO YOUR ROOM BOY!" his Uncle bellowed at his, tightening his grip even further. Harry could feel his fingertips and arm throbbing in pain. Finally the anger and hurt that had been building up inside of him for years overtook any self-control he had left as he yelled as loud as he could,

"HERE! TAKE YOUR CONTROL!"

He twisted around and picked up the glass of scotch from the table, splashing it in his Uncle's face, taking care to drop the glass so that it broke. Immediately his Uncle let go with a yell, putting one hand to his face, the other pushing Harry defensively away by the face so hard it knocked him over.

Harry fell backwards onto the floor, a loud 'Oomph!' escaped his throat as he hit his head hard. He scrambled away from his Uncle, who was angrily wiping scotch off his face. Harry hastened to his feet, as his Uncle advanced on him.

"Sorry," Harry said as he felt blood begin to seep quickly from his nose. "You looked thirsty."

Vernon Dursley growled at him, "Out! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Harry shot his Uncle the dirtiest look he could muster, before pushing past his Aunt. He ran upstairs, trying to stem the flow of blood, trying to make his head stop spinning. He collapsed onto his bed, the dizziness taking over him. He clenched his eyes shut as he forced himself to sit up, to find an old shirt to soak up the blood that was flowing freely down his face onto his clothing.

But even as he held his old school shirt against his face, he could not help but smile with satisfaction through all the pain. This was the first real time he had ever stood up to his Uncle, and he was so glad that he had. He had wanted to say those things for so long, and now he finally had. He looked up at the door as the locks on it clicked shut. Needless to say he would probably be locked his in room for the rest of the summer.


	11. Chapter 11

A battered and bruised boy sat at his desk, tapping his fingers impatiently as he waited for his faithful owl to return from her afternoon hunting. Harry smiled at the thought of Muggles wondering why an Owl was out and about during the day. He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head as he winced in pain. He glanced around his room, which was now immaculate. After being locked in his bedroom, and told not to leave it, he could not risk jumping out his window to wander the streets and cure his boredom, as Dudley might see him, which would only make his Uncle explode at him even more than he has been lately. So after being locked in his bedroom for the last week and a half, his boredom had driven him to doing the most insane things.

He had first taken to rummaging through his trunk in search of something to amuse himself. However this only resulted in his bedroom becoming so messy it was hard to walk in, and he no longer had any motivation to clean it. His boredom had driven him to write fake hate mail to Voldemort, which was quite amusing, and even to lying on his bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, completely void of all thought, just as he had been during summer before 5th year. This morning however, after a week of fake hate mail and memorizing the ceiling, he had forced himself to clean his bedroom. At first he simply threw everything haphazardly into his trunk, then continued moping around. But then he took everything out again and began to place everything in his trunk perfectly. Clothes were folded, books were stacked, items were organized, and he now knew exactly where everything was.

But his persistent boredom would not let him stop. He had made his bed perfectly, straightened his desk, cleaned Hedwig's cage as best he could, even cleaned out chocolate frog wrappings from the bottom of his school bag. His bedroom was now immaculate, and he once again had nothing to do.

It's a vicious cycle. Harry thought to himself as he patiently awaited Hedwig's return. He needed her to take his routine letter to headquarters, which had all been filled with countless lies about how, Im fine, Dursleys are being sociable…He sighed as he closed his eyes and rubbed his painful shoulder, which his Uncle had so graciously supplied along with many new bruises. However Harry wasn't the only one who had copped a few bruises. Harry was quite proud of the punch he had thrown at his Uncle's jaw when he had insulted his Father, also the bite mark on his wrist from when he wouldn't let go of his shoulder. His Uncle should have been back from work by now, but Mitre 10 was having a storewide clearance sale of minimum 40% off factory price, and his Uncle was livid.

He was startled from his thought as the cat flap in his door opened, as his Aunt pushed a tray through the door. He sighed as he stood and picked it up, observing with distaste, the cheese sandwich and glass of water. He placed the tray on his desk and took Hedwig's dirty water dish out of her cage, tipping it out of the open window. Harry poured the glass full of water into her empty dish and replaced it in her cage, before drinking the last of it himself. He sat down at his desk taking a bite of his sandwich, and pulled a face at the stale bread. He threw the bread down and began to just eat the slice of cheese, his appetite having vanished almost completely, which had slightly scared him at first.

Just at that moment, he saw Hedwig approaching the window, her wings spread wide. He stood up and opened his trunk to find a quill and parchment to as to write another note for her to send. She hooted as she landed on the windowsill, looking at him expectantly. Harry picked her up and carried her to her cage, where she hopped off his arm and began to drink the fresh water gratefully. Harry sat down at his desk to write, but was distracted by the loud sound of a car door slamming. He looked at his watch that read 6 thirty. About time. He thought to himself, as the front door also slammed shut.

"Mitre 10 will be putting us out of business in a week!" he heard his Uncle ranting. "No body will want to buy drills from us with this raucous going on!"

What a shame, Harry thought as a smile lit up his face at his Uncles misfortune. However his smile was short lived as his uncle continued ranting.

"And where on God's earth is that boy? Has he written to those freaks lately?"

"I don't know dear," Petunia said calmly as she pottered around in the kitchen.

There was silence, before the unmistakable sounds of a chair scraping, and angry thumping as his uncle headed up the stairs. Harry braced himself mentally, putting down his quill even though he had not started writing. The lock on his bedroom door clicked open, and his uncle opened the door with a creak. Harry turned around slowly.

"Yes?" he said over politely.

"Have you written to those freaks yet?" his Uncle said coldly.

Harry turned back around on his chair, "I'll do that later."

His Uncle stood there in silence, before saying in a loud menacing voice, "Do it now!"

Harry sighed, not knowing exactly why he did not want to write to headquarters in his Uncle's presence. His Uncle took his sigh as a sign of defiance, stepping forward and almost yelling.

"I said do it NOW!"

Feeling suddenly rebellious, he looked straight out the window and said, "Make me."

Silence filled the room, before with a growl sounding like a wounded cow, his Uncle strode forward. He grabbed his nephew by the hair with one hand, pulling his head back, while taking his other and wrapping it tightly around his wrist. Harry yelled slightly in shock as his head was reefed backwards, and his wrist felt fit to break under the pressure.

"Write it now." his Uncle almost whispered in his ear. Harry struggled against the hold upon him, he bought his free hand up to his Uncles face to try and poke him in the eye. Seeing this as a danger, his Uncle let go of his head and slammed his free hand down on the desk also. Harry gasped loudly in pain, before his Uncle yelled in his ear, "WRITE IT!" He could feel the hot breath that smelt strongly of scotch on his neck, the throbbing of his wrists, giving in he picked up the quill and began to write. Sirius, he began. Everything is fine here, Harry could feel the pressure in his wrist increase painfully with each word. See you soon, Harry. He finished. He dropped the quill of the desk defiantly, and breathed with relief as the tight grip on his wrists relinquished.

His Uncle stepped back, Harry rubbed the wrist he had been writing with as his Uncle said to him nastily, "Wasn't so hard was it?" Harry turned around in his seat, glaring at him in pure hate. "You can stay up here for all I care." his Uncle turned and walked swiftly out of the room, locking the door and slamming it, which made Harry flinch.

Harry turned back to the note he had just written and stared at it, hating himself for giving in. He snatched the parchment and folded it as he carefully attached it to Hedwig's leg. Knowing exactly where to go, Hedwig soared out the window into the night sky. Harry watched her as she grew smaller and smaller, before disappearing altogether. Harry breathed deeply as he put his hands to his sides and began to pace his bedroom, righteous anger building up inside him until he gave a slight yell and kicked his trunk.

He all of a sudden hated Dumbledore, for leaving him in such a mess. Here he was stuck at the Dursleys having the time of his life. He wondered if Dumbledore ever knew what his childhood was like living here. He came to the conclusion that he must not have, otherwise he would have done something. He tried to convince himself of this, even though he kept remembering that Dumbledore seemed to know about everything.

He sighed with the injustice of it all. Being at the Dursley, having the responsibility of the Horcruxes. Why couldn't he just have to worry about everyday things? Harry began to run his wrists gingerly.

"I have to get out of here." he whispered to himself. Suddenly desperate to get out he resumed his pacing again. Where would I go though? Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to block out his sudden tiredness. Where, where would he go?

"You know there's nothing you can't tell me." These words Sirius had said to him echoed through his head as he stopped dead in his tracks. I can go to Sirius. Harry's heart began to pound as this thought ran through his mind. Harry wrung his hands together nervously. He could tell Sirius anything. He knew Sirius wouldn't tell anybody if Harry didn't want him to.

"Let us know if you want to leave early alright?" He could write to him, tell Sirius to get him out of here now. He'd come, he'd come and get me. Harry thought to himself. All he had to do was write to him. However hard realization struck him as he realized that Hedwig wasn't here to deliver his message. She probably wouldn't be back until the next evening. Harry sat down on his bed again, his head in his hands. I can't wait until tomorrow evening, even then it would be the next morning until someone would come.

The Knight Bus was out of the question, if anybody were to recognize him through his bruises, it would be all over the morning paper. Reporters with nothing much better to report speculating about how he came about his injuries and Merlin knows what else.

Harry sighed loudly as he heard the Dursleys downstairs, flicking between the channels on the television. He sat up straight, running his fingers through his hair. How on earth am I going to get there? He couldn't legally apparate yet, floo network wasn't connected to the Dursleys and a Portkey was automatically out of the question. Suddenly it hit him.

Train.

He could go by train. Trains passed through London and Little Whinging 24/7. You could hear them passing in the distance all through the night. Harry stood up, his heart beginning to beat harder once again. If he got off at Kings Cross he could walk to Grimmauld Place. It was only about twenty minutes from the station, and he should know. He had walked there from Grimmauld Place at the beginning of 5th year.

He began his pacing once again, this time however with more nervousness than ever. The Little Whinging train station was about 10 minutes by car, he didn't know exactly how long it would be by foot. He had Muggle money that he had converted when he was in Diagon Alley. Harry looked out into the dying light. If he was going to go, he should go now.

Harry stopped pacing, biting his lip as he considered this plan. What could go wrong? He thought to himself. Probably still have the order tailing me. Harry looked down at his wrists, which were now a slightly pink color. He stood there in silence for a few moments, before making his decision.

He quickly opened his trunk and took out his now empty school bag and stuffed it with enough clothing for a few days, no longer caring about neatness. His heart pounded in his throat as he grabbed the wallet that held his Muggle money and stuffed that into his bag aswell. He pulled on his worn runners and an oversized hooded jumper, before approaching his bedroom window. He leaned out and dropped his bag into the grass below, praying the Dursleys didn't see. He clambered onto the windowsill, holding on tight to the frame with his right hand. He reached to his left and grabbed onto the strong wooded lattice that was nailed against the brick wall, to house his Aunt's growing vines.

Grabbing hold if it he began to awkwardly climb down, trying not to damage to vines too much. His sore arms painfully ached harder, but he ignored this. He reached the bottom of the lattice and crouched down below the kitchen window. Still praying his Aunt and Uncle did not see him. He reached out and pulled his bag towards him as he crept away from the windows. Once out of sight of the windows, he stood up tall, slinging his bag around his shoulder he began to briskly walk towards the front yard. He reached the street as the street lights flickered on, and turned left, walking along the pavement rather than jogging, as he would have liked.

As he walked, his heart began to beat less obviously, however not stemming the rebellious feeling of what he was doing. This was the second time he had run away from the Dursleys, and he hoped it would be as successful as it was the first time. He had found a place to stay, seen the Weasleys briefly, and even gotten off from when he blew up his Aunt Marge.

Harry had been walking for about 25 minutes when he saw Dudley and his gang. They were sitting on the opposite side of the road, smoking cigarettes and throwing rocks at passing cars. Harry stopped dead in his tracks staring at them. Oh no. He thought as he looked at them. If Dudley sees me I'm dead. Breathing heavily, Harry forced himself to turn away and keep walking.

"Hey Big D! Isn't that your cos?" he heard somebody say from across the road. Harry's heart skipped a beat slightly, but he forced himself to keep walking, quickening his pace and putting his head down. He didn't look back as he kept on walking, and he soon found himself standing outside the relatively small train station of Little Whinging.

He looked around, and found where he had to buy a ticket. He approached the line and patiently waited. The line quickly moved, and he was soon at the desk, which was illuminated by the station's fluorescent lights. He smiled at the severe looking lady sitting behind the glass and began,

"Kings Cross, London please."

She looked down at the computer with a frown, typing a few words in. "There is a train leaving for Richmond, and a connecting one from there to London, for 17 pounds all together."

"When does it leave?" he asked.

"This train leaves at 7:55."

Harry looked down at his wristwatch. 45 minutes.

"Ok. One ticket please."


	12. Chapter 12

"See yah Big D!" Pier Polkiss, Dudleys best friend yelled out as he roared away in the flash new car his parents bought him when he got his drivers permit. Dudley waved his hand over his shoulder as he trotted his way up the garden path. Opening the front door with a bang to announce his presence, he yelled out in a sing song voice to who ever was listening-

"Harry's out of his room!"

Dudley entered came through the kitchen door, a wide smirk on his face.

"What did you say son?" his father questioned from his position on the dining room table. He shifted some of the papers he was working through as he took a sip from his glass of scotch.

"Harry's out of his room and he's not supposed to be," Dudley replied, still using his singsong voice.

Vernon Dursley looked up from his paper work to stare incredulously at his son.

"What do you mean?" he said slowly.

"I saw him walking along Fitzgerald road with his bag," Dudley replied as he helped himself to some of the chocolate from the fridge, all with the air of being the cat that swallowed the fish.

Vernon Dursley sat stunned in his chair at this remark as his wife entered from the back door.

"Dudders!" She exclaimed, giving him a big hug. Sucking up to his mother he hugged her back widely, also trying to hide the pieces of chocolate he was hiding inside his mouth.

All of a sudden Vernon stood up and walked from the kitchen, muttering under his breath something about "Control…. little brat."

He pounded up that stairs yelling out, "POTTER!" As Dudley painfully swallowed his mouthful of chocolate before explaining to his mother.

"POTTER!" he yelled again as he opened the lock on his nephew's bedroom door. He opened it with a bang and he opened his mouth, ready to yell at the boy. He stopped short as he surveyed the room. It was empty. Opening and closing his mouth in shock, he slammed the door shut, a furious rage welling up inside of him. He wobbled his way downstairs yelling as he did so-

"Dud! When did you see him?"

Dudley gave his father an 'I told you so' look before replying, "Not even twenty minutes ago.

"Well where was he!" the older man forced out through his rage.

"I dunno," Dudley shrugged untruthfully. "Somewhere near the train station."

Vernon Dursleys eyes opened wider than most as he processed this news. Train station… he thought to himself. That must mean…Realization took over him, "Petunia!" he yelled as he turned around and bustled out into the hallway, picking up his set of keys as he did so.

"Petunia he's getting away!" he yelled again, sounding even more like a mad man!

He opened the front door, his wife and son following curiously. They followed him into the front yard where he jumped into his new work car and pulled out of the driveway.

"HE'S GOING BACK TO THOSE FREAKS!" he yelled out to his wife from the front window before driving away, his face turning bright red.

Petunia and Dudley watched in awe as he sped around the corner and out of sight.

"Daddy's gone mad again hasn't he?" Dudley asked, trying with difficulty to hold in a laugh.

"No darling," his mother said, feeling slightly perplexed. "It's just the liquor talking."

Harry sighed as he looked at his watch. 7:45 it read. Only another 10 minutes he reassured himself. It felt like he had been waiting for this train for hours. He rubbed his arms as he shivered slightly in the cool night, his well-worn jumper not providing very much protection. He leaned back on the bench he was sitting on as he surveyed the surrounding platform. There were only a few other people here waiting, most of them waiting for loved one by the looks of them.

Harry clenched his teeth together as the well formed doubt flooded his mind again. What if the train didn't come? What if he couldn't find his way to Grimmauld place in the dark? All these questions flooded his mind as he sat quietly, trying to think about something else.

What was he going to say to Sirius when he turned up at his house, probably sometime after midnight? What if there were other people there? Harry breathed in deeply as he leaned forward to put his head in his hands, trying repeatedly to think of something positive. Well atleast I'm never going to have to put up with my Uncle's crap anymore. That's got to be a positive. He thought to himself with a smile. Harry took his head out of hands and looked around once again.

Vernon Dursley slammed his car to a stop in a non-parking zone at the train station. After driving up and down the entire length of the long Fitzgerald road and seeing no sign of his run-away nephew, he came to the train station as his last resort. He opened his door and forced it shut loudly as he quickly made his way into the brightly-lit train station. His small eyes fell on the ticket desk where a small line was waiting.

He pushed his way to the front on the queue and looked down at the stern faced lady sitting behind the glass.

"Have you seen a 16 year old boy?" he began rudely to her as she stared at him in dismay. "About this height," he held his hand up to the height of his shoulder. "With black hair and an ugly scar on his face."

The lady stared back at him, her eyes wide looking as though she had swallowed a lemon.

"Well have you!" Dursley questioned again at her.

Collecting herself, the lady replied, "Yes. He went that way." She pointed in the direction directly behind him, and he turned around without even giving thanks. Vernon Dursley looked around the platform, searching for the ungrateful little brat. He finally spotted him, sitting on a bench deep in thought. Furious anger bubbling up inside of him, he began to march towards him.

Harry's heart stopped when he saw his Uncle. Marching towards him with a venomous look on his face. All of a sudden, his heart began to pound as fear roused in his chest.

"You!" his Uncle said loudly as he pointed at him with his sausage like fingers. Harry grabbed his bag and stood up facing him, as his breathing became shaky.

"What are you doing here?" he said defensively as he tried to make his feet move. "How did you find me?"

He could see clearly the redness of his Uncle's face. Through his mounting fear, he felt his feet began to carry himself backwards, but it was too late. His Uncle took a hold of him by the wrist tightly as he yelled out,

"You're coming with me boy!" Spit flying everywhere, he began to lead Harry the short distance back to the car. Harry struggled, as he became suddenly aware of the station full of people staring at them incredulously. Harry stumbling slightly he was dragged towards the car. However, he was still not going to give up without a fight.

"Let me go!" he yelled at his Uncle, who only increased the grip he had on his already sore wrist. Desperate, Harry dug his feet into the ground, he struggled as hard as he could yelling slightly. The stronger man continued to drag him across the car park, the gravel providing no help to Harry's case as he continued trying to dig his feet into the ground. His Uncle only tugged harder when he did this, making Harry yell out as pain shot through his arm and shoulder.

"Let me go!" he yelled as he clawed at his uncle's grip on him with his free hand.

"GET IN!" his Uncle yelled louder as he unlocked the car door with the remote control. He threw Harry against the car, Harry grunting in shock as he hit it.

"GET IN!" he yelled again. He dragged Harry back again as he opened the passenger door. He tried to force his nephew inside, but still not giving up Harry kicked him as hard as he could, only providing his Uncle perfect chance to throw him inside and shut the door.

Harry cried out again in shock as he sat up and untangled himself from his bag. He flung himself towards the door handle and yanked it hard, hoping to get away again and make a run for it. His stomach dropped as he realized his Uncle had locked his door. No no no no! He thought to himself as he watched his Uncle come round the bonnet of the car.

A sudden thought coming to him, he quickly leaned across to the driver's side door, fumbling for the lock, trying to shut his Uncle out. He continued searching for the button, before realizing that there was none, it was electronic. He looked up into the livid face of his Uncle who was opening the door and he threw himself backward into his own seat.

His Uncle sat down in the drivers seat, still bright red. He fumed as he reversed out into the traffic of Fitzgerald road, and Harry glared at him, never hating him more than he did this moment. Harry's breathing continued to shake as he pulled on his seat belt. Harry continued glaring as his Uncle began to speak coldly.

"Did you really think I was going to let you get away? Huh? Did you?"

Harry turned away and began staring out the window at the passing traffic. His Uncle swerved dangerously as he sped through the traffic. All of a sudden Harry remembered the smell of alcohol on his Uncle's breath earlier. He said softly, having almost given up,

"You shouldn't be driving. You've been drinking."

Straight away his Uncle burst out,

"And who are you to tell me what to do! Huh? Who are you?"

Harry stayed silent as he stared defeated out the window. How in the name of Merlin did he find me? Harry thought to himself as his Uncle continued his ranting.

"Please just let me go back to the station," Harry said pleading his uncle.

"AND WHAT! LET THOSE FREAKS TURN UP ON MY DOORSTEP ASKING WHY YOU'RE BACK EARLY," his Uncle yelled at him as he continued to swerve through the traffic and a dangerous speed.

"Look slow down already!" Harry retorted angrily, as angry drivers beeped their horns at them.

"Don't tell me what to do boy!" Vernon Dursley forced out through clenched teeth.

Feeling like a risk Harry stated, "You take me back, I'm only going to take off again."

"With bars on the windows?" his Uncle asked, clearly having thought through a plan.

"With magic," Harry stated simply.

"DON'T! Don't speak about your abnormalness!" his Uncle yelled as he slammed the car to a stop at a 'round a bout'.

"All I'd have to do is one little charm and the ministry would come running."

"And arrest you! Oh what a happy day that would be!"

"They wouldn't arrest me. They want to much from me," Harry replied nastily thinking about the proposal from Scrimgeour that he had refused.

"And what would they want from you!" his Uncle said raising his voice as he turned to look at him. "What would any one want from you!" he yelled.

"More than you'll ever know," Harry said lowly, trying to calm himself down a little.

Vernon Dursley took his eyes off the road again to glare at his nephew. "Don't you get smart with me boy!" he said loudly, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, still looking at Harry. "I won't take it anymore!"

Harry rolled his eyes when suddenly, everything around him began to change. He was suddenly aware of absolutely everything around himself. His Uncles rants; loud car horns; a glowing red light; the bright lights of the other cars; the sound of skidding tyres. Things began to move in slow motion as Harry tried to take in what was happening. The car lurched sideways, the horrible sound of metal on metal filled the air with a bloodcurdling screech. Harry gasped loudly as glass began to shatter before his eyes, as he was thrown about forcefully. It seemed to take an age for things to stop, yet it had happened in a matter of seconds.


	13. Chapter 13

It was his breathing that he first became aware of. It seemed harder than usual, like somebody was sitting directly on his chest, stopping him from breathing fully. He thought he could hear somebody coughing, before he realized it was him. Heavy coughs racked his body as he screwed up his eyes, he realized he was leaning forward on something and he forced himself to sit up. He stilled for a moment then opened his eyes as he coughed again and looked around. He couldn't see anything, his vision was blurry. He squinted his eyes but he could make out almost nothing except the white haze that was floating around the car.

Harry leaned back trying to breathe, blinking his eyes as he tried to make them focus. What happened? He thought to himself. All of a sudden he became aware of the bright lights that were surrounding him. Harry let out a strangled groan as he realized what had happened. A crash. His heart quickened as this thought sunk in, and he turned his head towards his Uncle, full of dread. He stilled in shock, his Uncle was slumped across the drivers door, blood running down his wide face. He wasn't moving.

Panic filled Harry's body and he felt suddenly claustrophobic. His breathing became erratic as he fumbled with the clasp of his seat belt, still not taking his eyes off his Uncle. The clasp clicked open and the seat belt automatically retraced back into the holder. Slightly relieved Harry tore his eyes from his Uncle and pulled on the door handle. Nothing happened, he began pulling again and again, becoming more and more desperate. Full of panic he threw himself against the door, trying to make it budge. He threw himself at it again and it opened slightly with a creak.

Full of desperation Harry pushed the door open and pulled himself out, his arms holding tightly onto the wrecked car frame. He set his foot to the ground, it buckled and a wave of dizziness over took him.

"Hey hey hey!" someone called out to him. Harry held tightly onto the open car door as a middle aged man rushed over to him, taking him firmly by one elbow.

"Are you alright?" he said concerned. Harry tried to breathe in but was overcome by more heavier coughing. The stranger put his arm around Harry's middle and began to walk him slowly away from the car. Harry stumbled but followed the man's lead away from the wreckage, as he tried desperately to stop the coughs that racked his body.

"Come on you'll be alright," the man said soothingly as he put gentle pressure on Harry's side to make him sit down on the road. The man knelt down beside him looking worried. "Don't worry, the ambulance will be here soon. Just try not to move too much."

Harry looked down at the ground as nausea swept over him. He let out a groan as he tried to stand up again, but the stranger wouldn't let him. "Don't move mate. It'll be alright."  
Harry complied as the sounds of the Ambulance siren filled the air around him. He looked up to see a few cars parked haphazardly around the intersection, obviously having just escaped impact themselves. Their lights were bright and he couldn't see much else through them except for the flashing red light of the Ambulance that had just pulled up close to him. Harry put his head into his hands as he tried to get rid of the nausea and dizziness. The man kneeling beside him stood up and began talking to somebody. Harry clenched his eyes shut then opened them again, hoping his vision would clear up even though he didn't know where his glasses were.

"Hey mate I'm David from the Ambulance Service," somebody said calmly as they knelt down beside him. "Can you tell me your name?"

Harry took a deep shuddering breath as he tried to clear his foggy mind. "Harry Potter," he replied simply.

David began to rummage around in something Harry could not see and he took out a small torch.

"OK Harry can you follow this torch with your eyes please," he said not as a question but as a command. Harry looked towards the small torch, squinting his eyes slightly as he followed it up and down, right to left. David flicked the torch downward turning it off as he studied the young boy before him.

"Do you think you lost consciousness at all Harry?"

"Err, maybe, I think so," Harry replied uncertainly as another ambulance parked, it's siren stopping suddenly. Two men jumped out calmly, both holding a case much like the one David had and approached the other car that Harry had not noticed.

"Do you know how my Uncle is? The one in the car?" Harry said, not knowing if he wanted to know.

David turned around on the spot and looked towards the car Harry had indicated. Observing it for a minute he turned back to his patient and replied.

"I don't know what's going on but my partners over there assessing him. But what we need to worry about is you alright mate," he said calmly as he put his hand towards Harry's face. Confused, Harry tried to get up,

"No I'm fine, I'm alright."

"No mate sit down, you're not alright," David said putting his hands gently on Harry's shoulders to pressure him back down. Harry once again complied as he sat down, however confused about what David had just said. I'm fine. Harry thought to himself. He looked up to see a lady who was obviously David's partner approaching.

"John and Micah are taking over the driver. What do we need?" she said as she too kneeled down on Harry's other side. Harry looked at her briefly, before looking back down at the ground, suddenly feeling slightly tired. He took note of her blonde hair that shone brightly in the lights from the cars, her dark roots standing out.

"Harry this is Georgia, my partner. We'll need a stretcher ready please, were set to go."

Georgia nodded as she stood up swiftly and headed back towards the vehicle she had come in.

David turned back to Harry and said, "Are you in much pain Harry?"

Beginning to get frustrated he replied, "No I told you I'm fine."

"No numbness, pins and needles?"

"No."

"Any nausea, dizziness?"

This stopped Harry, as he thought hard. "Yeah a little when I stood up," he admitted.

David scribbled something down a piece of paper Harry hadn't noticed, he looked up as Georgia came back over.

"Stretcher's prepped. Ready?"

He nodded as he handed the Muggle pen and sheet of paper over to her.

"Right Harry I'm going to help you up ok. Just lean on me and we'll get you to a hospital in no time. Is that ok?"

Harry nodded, uncaring about what happened next. He looked up as he felt David's arm go gently around his waist, his other arm directing Harry's to go over his shoulder. They slowly stood up, immediately Harry felt the dizziness and sickening nausea wash over him again as David made sure that he put all of his weight onto him. Harry breathed in deeply as he tried to stem the nausea that was threatening to overcome him. He let out the deep shuddering breath as they made their way to the open doors of the ambulance, the bright lights shining.

Somehow he was soon half lying half sitting on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance, glancing around at all the strange equipment that filled it. All of a sudden the sliding door slammed shut and Georgia entered the front of the vehicle. An engine started up and Harry could dimly see he lights flashing, but no siren thankfully.

"Ok Harry were on our way we shouldn't be more than a few minutes. I'm just going to put a small drip in your hand, just a small needle."

Harry dimly nodded, all of a sudden feeling rather tired.

"Now try not to move very much ok? We won't be long I promise."

Harry didn't respond, focusing on keeping himself awake. Harry felt David's hand upon his own, then a small sting as the needle went into the back of his left hand.

"There's just a few details I need to know Harry. First of all were you wearing a seatbelt?"

"Yes," Harry replied. When David asked if he was sure he replied again. "Yes I'm sure."

"Ok," David said as he scribbled something else down on the piece of paper that Georgia had left for him. "And who can we contact for you? Mum or Dad?"

Harry shut his eyes at this, not wanting to explain everything. "There's a lady, Mrs Figg. 12 Mongolia Crescent. "

"Do you have a phone number for her?"

"Er, no."

"That's ok the hospital will get in contact with her as soon as they can. Im just going to take your blood pressure, it might feel a bit tight. Are you on any types of medication? Any conditions we should know about? Epilepsy? Heart problems? Anything like that?"

"No, nothing," Harry replied as David strapped a wide band to the top of his arm and pressed a button on a Muggle machine it was connected to. Immediately Harry felt the band begin to tighten with a buzz.

"Ok do you know your blood type?" David said as he waited for an accurate reading to show.

"No, sorry." The band continued getting tighter and tighter until it suddenly stopped. He was painfully aware of the throbbing in his fingertips as David scribbled another thing on the piece of paper.

"And how old are you?"

"16," he relied simply.

"Ok last of all I'm going to give you three words and when we get to the hospital they will probably want you to repeat them, this is just to make sure you haven't hit your head too hard. You ready.

"Yeah," Harry said absentmindedly.

"Orange, Goose and Australia."

"Ok."

David scribbled some more words down onto the piece of paper before clipping it onto a clipboard and attaching it to the end of the stretcher. He quickly unstrapped band from his arm, and Harry wiggled his fingertips slightly. Harry listened quietly as he bustled around the back of the ambulance, and attached something to the needle in Harry's arm.

"I'm just giving you some fluids Harry, you look a bit dehydrated. It may make your arm feel a bit cold but it's nothing to worry about."

Harry didn't reply, but he sighed with relief internally as he felt the vehicle slow down to a complete stop. He heard to front door of the ambulance open, then shut with a small bang as Georgia walked around the back of it.

The sliding door opened and David stood up and went around the back of the stretcher.

"Were here mate," Georgia said cheerfully as she took the other end of the stretcher and helped wheel it out of the van. Harry went to sit up but remembered what David had said, yet looked around. Large white paint on the ground bore the words AMBULANCE ONLY, as did a sign hanging up on the hospital wall.

Harry looked up, surprised as a small group of three people walked out of the hospital doors, snapping on rubber gloves. David and Georgia wheeled the stretcher towards them, and when they got nearer, one of the Muggle doctors asked, "What have we got here?"

Two of the doctors took over the stretcher as they pushed through the swinging doors and into a brightly lit emergency room. Harry could hear David somewhere near him rattling off words to a younger doctor who scribbled it down on a clipboard.

"16 year old Harry Potter, restrained passenger in T-bone collision. Unknown blood type, BP 110/75, IV fluids administered on route, complained of nausea and dizziness. No pain present yet, severe bruising to abdomen area, minor seat belt burn, small head wound and no obvious signs of spinal injury. The airbags inflated so possible whiplash also. Contact details on sheet, Mrs Figg."

"Hey Harry I'm Dr Alcott, are you still in no pain?" a dark haired man said to him as he was wheeled into a small curtained cubicle. Harry looked around, his eyes still not clearing up as he had desperately hoped.

"No, I feel fine."

"Ok then. Just move over onto the other stretcher for me mate," Dr Alcott said indicating the other stretcher that was pushed up against his own. Awkwardly Harry slid over to the next one, thankful that the top of it was raised so that he could fully sit up.

David and Georgia rolled the other stretcher away as they waved goodbye to him. Harry smiled at them slightly as a sign of thanks.

"Anna get in contact with this Mrs Figg for me." A brown haired nurse left the cubicle with the clipboard David had left for them, and shut the curtain behind her.

"Ok Harry the ambulance officers probably gave you three words to repeat back to us. What are they?"

"Orange, Goose and Australia."

"Very good. Alright Harry let's just get this jumper and shirt off," Dr Alcott said as he hung up the clear bag full of water like liquid that was attached to the needle in his hand. However he briefly dis-connected the drip from his arms as he help Harry to get his shirt and jumper off.

"Hey Harry I'm Dr Harte," the remaining person said to him kindly as he put the earpeice of a stethoscope into his ears. "Just breathe in deeply and hold it for me," he continued as he placed the other end on the left-hand side of Harry's back. Harry did as he asked, and again when he moved over the right side.

"Equal and clear breath sounds," he announced to the other doctor, hanging the stethoscope around his neck. Harry sat back and grimaced slightly as a sudden bolt of pain shot through his chest and back. Noticing this Dr Alcott asked him as he clipped something onto the end of Harry's finger.

"Any pain?"

Harry sighed, yet grimaced again as another shot went through him as he breathed in.

"Yes."

The doctor sat down on the edge of the bed, looking concerned. "Where was it and when?"

Harry explained, becoming more and more confused about this sudden occurrence of pain. The Doctor nodded as he looked towards the other.

"15 milligrams of morphine Pete, lets see how we go with that. Now Harry," he said looking back at him. "The probable reason you couldn't feel any pain before was because the adrenaline was most likely masking it. You'll probably become aware of a lot more and you need to tell us when you doo. But in the mean time we'll give you something to help with it a bit."

Harry nodded as he watched Dr Harte inject something into the tube that was coming from his hand. He tried to ignore the increasing pain in his chest, which was proving difficult through his breathing.

The curtain opened quietly and the nurse Anna entered briefly.

"I contacted Mrs Figg." she said to the room at large. "She said she'll have the right people notified and they should be here any minute."

"Thanks Anna," Dr Alcott said as he rummaged around in something behind Harry.

"Do you need me for anything else Doctor?"

"No thanks Anna."

The nurse smiled briefly as she quickly left, shutting the curtain behind her.

"Ok Harry we need you to put this on. It will help with your breathing," Dr Alcott said holding up a long thin plastic tube. He sat back down on the edge of his bed and hooked the tube over both of his ears. "This just goes in the nose, and should make things a bit easier for you," he said as he gently pressed two tiny tubes attached to the longer one into his nostril. Harry immediately felt the cool air flowing slowly out of the tube, and he breathed it in.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Now the morphine will start to work in a couple of minutes, are you still feeling nauseous at all or dizzy?"

Harry shook his head quietly.

"Any more pain?"

"No."

He nodded at him before turning to the other Doctor. "Pete would you do a full 'abdo' check, ultrasound if you need. He'll want some stitches, and half hourly observations."

Dr Harte nodded, "No problem."

"Let me know when you're done." And with that, Doctor Alcott pulled off his rubber gloves with a snap, leaving the cubicle pulling the curtains shut behind him.

"Alright Harry just lean back for me and try to relax," he said warmly. "I'm just going to have a feel of your abdomen here, you need to let me know if you feel any pain or discomfort."

Harry nodded as he leant back, closing his sore eyes for a moment. He forced them open as Dr Harte folded his hands over each other and pressed firmly onto his abdomen. He breathed in gently as he pressed harder, almost massaging. He moved his hands across the length of his stomach, pressing with different degrees of pressure. Harry grimaced as pain suddenly shot through his stomach and back as he pressed just below his ribs.

"That hurt did it?"

Harry nodded grimly.

Dr Harte nodded in response as he made a note on the clipboard, then continued his examination in a different spot.

"Alright then. I'll just fix up some of these cuts for you," he said about a minute later. He moved behind the bed where Harry could not see him, and pulled a trolley on wheels towards him, fiddling around with it for a minute. Harry sat there in silence, wondering about what that doctor had said to him not long before.

Cuts? He thought to himself. He felt fine. But shock hit him hard as he took a good look at him self. Already some large bruises were forming on his chest, and he noticed for the first time, cuts all over his hands and arms.

"Alright Harry I'm just going to do some stitches on your face, quite a few I'm sorry to say," Dr Harte said to him, trying to be cheerful for the sake of his patient, who was looking steadily paler.

"Sorry?"

"You've got a pretty nasty cut on your face mate, it's gonna need stitches."

"Oh," Harry said quietly. "I can't even feel half this."

"Yeah that would be the adrenaline rush you would have had. You're lucky," he said as he raised a small hand mirror to Harry's face for him to see.

Harry almost gasped out loud as his eyes took in the many tiny cuts on his face, he assumed it was probably when his glasses may have broken. But the one that shocked him most was much larger. A large gash ran like a semi-circle from just above his right cheekbone to above his eyebrow, blood had run down the entire length of his face and had dried dramatically, but was thankfully no longer bleeding. Harry put his hands to his face and gingerly felt it. He winced in pain as he touched his face, and he put down the mirror with a sigh.

"I've seen worse if that makes you feel better," Dr Harte said soothingly, as he prepared a small needle, which would help numb the area he would be stitching.

The curtain opened slightly as the nurse Anna poked her head in.

"You've got a visitor."

Dr Harte raised his eyebrows. "That was quick," he said in awe.

The nurse pulled back the curtain, and the one person Harry had hoped to see entered the cubicle. Harry grimaced in pain as he sighed with relief.

"Merlin Harry! What's happened?" Sirius said as he approached his Godson and sat down on the other side of the bed, looking more frightened than Harry had seen him in a long time. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine," he said in reply, as a small smile crept onto his face.

Sirius took hold of Harry's hand, still looking worried. "Really I'm fine, honestly."

Sirius nodded his head, looking as though he was trying to convince himself of something he didn't believe. He gripped Harry's hand tightly as he breathed out with relief.

"What happened though?"

"It's a long story."


	14. Chapter 14

Harry Potter lay awake in his private hospital room in Little Whinging, listening to the heavy breathing of his Godfather, who over the past few hours had not left his side. Harry turned his head to watch his Godfather tucked up under a blanket on the portable bed the hospital had provided for him, watching him sleep peacefully. His eyes now drew to the clock that was visible in the well-lit hall outside his room. 3:52 it read. Harry sighed as he closed his eyes, trying to once again fall asleep on the uncomfortable bed.

There had been no real point in trying to sleep for too long though. After he was sure Harry had stabilized, Dr Alcott ordered hourly check ups through out the night, determined to let nothing slip through his fingers. Of course this meant not much sleep for him, although it was better than odd nightmares.

Harry sighed softly as he tried to make himself more comfortable, but gasped slightly as a dim stab of pain shot through his back. Both of the doctors warned him he would have to take extreme care so that he would not further aggravate his fractured ribs. It was times like this that he cursed the bad luck that found him wound up in a Muggle hospital. Any healer with half a brain would have been able to mend his injuries in an instant. No more fractured bones, no more painful stitches all over his face and body.

Harry looked back over to where Sirius lay quite still, breathing heavily. This whole experience was incredibly new for him, not even understanding at first the full impact and danger of what a car accident could mean. Most of the evening he had sat on the edge of Harry's bed, white faced and quiet, only perking up after Dr Alcott had announced him stable.

He had had one other visitor, Remus popped in about an hour after that with a backpack full of clothing for Harry. He also brought a plastic bag that the police had given him, containing his other backpack and his now mended glasses. Remus had asked nothing about why he had packed a bag full of clothing, and he was pretty sure Sirius hadn't really noticed, so it seemed he was safe for now. He just had to find the right time to tell his Godfather why he was in that car in the first place. Harry had promised himself silently to tell his Godfather everything, he just had to wait and find the right time.

A shadow flickered through the room, Harry turned his head to see the night nurse Jenny enter his room, flicking on the soft light above his bed.

"Hello again," she said softly so as not to wake up the sleeping man beside her patient.

"Hi."

"Getting much sleep?" she asked quietly as she took out a small device, which would read his temperature. She waited for the click to sound, before removing the head of it from his ear.

"A little," Harry replied.

She smiled before continuing. "Bit hard with me hanging around like a bad smell all the time hey."

Harry laughed softly as she wrapped the device around his upper arm, which would read his blood pressure. Harry had had this done so many times these last few hours that he never wanted to see one again. While it was tightening she continued by shining her torch in his eyes until the machine stopped with a small beep. She wrote down the reading neatly on the chart that goes at the end of his bed and then took off the wide band.

"How's the pain going?"

"Better. I think I'm going to like this morphine stuff."

She placed his chart back in the holder at the end of the bed as she smiled at his comment.

"Any nausea? Dizziness?"

"No," Harry said, never wanting to be asked those questions again either.

"Headaches? Blurry vision?"

"Only when I'm not wearing my glasses," Harry replied with a laugh.

"Ok then," Jenny replied as she sat herself down on the edge of his bed.

"Now I've got some news on your Uncle for you."

Harry stopped, suddenly listening intently. His Uncle had been brought to the same hospital a few hours after himself. It had taken a while to get him out of his side of the badly damaged car and was in a very bad way. He'd immediately been rushed to surgery to operate dangerously on his heart after a small heart attack. Harry had been waiting for hours for some news, any news

"Yeah?"

"He's out of surgery," she said tentatively. "They've just put him in his room. You'll be able to see him straight away if you like."

Harry paused before saying, "Yeah, ok."

"Alright come on," Jenny replied, standing up to allow him to get out of bed. Harry threw back the covers, revealing his worn out tracksuit pants and tee shirt. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, as Jenny helped him stand, still not very steady on his sprained ankle.

"Did you want your Godfather to come aswel?"

Harry paused as he looked over his shoulder at Sirius' sleeping figure as he put his glasses on.

"No," he said, wanting to do this on his own. "Let him sleep."

She nodded as she took the brakes of the mobile I.V. drip stand, which was holding the steady flow of morphine straight into the back of his hand. Harry took hold of it and began wheeling it slowly as he walked gingerly. He had smiled grimly when he realized the more he moved the more painful bruises he would find.

Harry and the Nurse slowly walked outside into the corridor. Other patients who were worse off than him were wheeled past them occasionally, everybody looking at each other curiously. All of a sudden a sinking thought occurred to him.

"Jenny, what happened to the people in the other car?" he asked. He had been so wrapped up in what had been happening to his Uncle and himself that he had not thought to ask.

She seemed to stop mid thought, she smiled with relief as she remembered, "Oh, they're fine. Couple of cuts and bruises, passenger had a concussion but that's all," she said as they stepped into an empty elevator. "They're staying over night just in case, but they should be fine," she said pressing the button for the third floor.

Harry sighed with relief, glad that they were Ok. He felt a slight jolt as the elevator doors shut and they began to move upwards. The elevators were slower than he remembered them from his childhood, but they were upstairs sooner than he thought. The doors opened with a 'Beep' and they stepped out, carefully avoiding the few others that were waiting to get inside.

They turned right and slowly headed down a much quieter corridor. Two men wearing light blue hospital scrubs headed down the corridor towards them, talking softly. One of them spotted Harry and Jenny and they slowed down as they approached them.

"You after Mr Dursley?" the dark skinned man said to them as he rubbed his hands together.

Jenny nodded and the man continued. "Room 214, operation went well and he should make a full recovery. He ought to wake up completely in a few minutes. I'm just going down now to let his wife and son know what's been happening. They'll probably be up here soon enough also."

"Thanks," Jenny replied, and Harry smiled at them, deducing that they were his Uncle's surgeons. The two surgeons nodded and they continued down the corridor, resuming their quiet chatter. Harry and Jenny too continued down the long corridor before stopping abruptly to enter into a small room, that was light only by the fluorescent light above the bed. Another Nurse leaned over the man lying in the bed, doing something that Harry couldn't see. She steeped back and Harry could now fully see his Uncle.

He stood still as he observed his Uncle's beaten appearance. He looked much the same as himself, but Harry noticed a large white patch running down the center of his Uncle's chest, just poking out from under his hospital gown. He was sleeping softly, a large mask sitting over his mouth and nose, which regularly fogged up as he breathed in and out.

"Why don't you sit down Harry until he wakes up," Jenny said to him kindly, referring to a maroon upholstered chair near his Uncle bed. Harry tore his eye away from his Uncle and slowly wheeled his I.V. stand over to the chair as he sat down, noticing his Uncle had one much the same as his, only with more bags of unknown liquid hanging from it.

The other nurse turned and looked at him and said, "He'll be awake pretty soon, just try to make sure he keeps that mask on."

Harry nodded, "Ok," he said uncertainly as she swiftly left the room. Jenny looked down at him concerned.

"Do you want me to wait for you outside or can you find your way back to your room by yourself?"

"Oh um, I'll find my way back," he said looking up at her appreciatively.

She nodded and turned to leave.

"Thanks," Harry said to her softly, she turned back to him and smiled. "No problem," she turned back and quickly exited, leaving only Harry and his Uncle. Harry turned his head back to face his Uncle, who was still sleeping soundly. He sighed as he relaxed back into the chair, listening to his Uncle steady breathing, and the steady pulse of another machine that monitored his heart rate.

He wished he had thought of something to say. Now that he was going to spill the beans to Sirius he highly doubted that he was going to be allowed to go back to the Dursleys. This was probably the last time he'd get a chance to say anything privately. This was his last chance. Merlin what am I going to say? He thought to himself desperately, there was so much to say but he couldn't seem to form it all into words. His original plan didn't involve any of this. He leant forward slowly, drumming his fingers on his knees impatiently.

He wished his uncle would wake up faster, he didn't feel like making forced conversation with his Aunt and Cousin. Then, as though reading his thoughts, he heard a soft,

"Harry?"

He looked up quickly to see his Uncle's face turned towards him, staring at his intently. His heart began to pound in his throat. What was he going to say?

He swallowed nervously before replying. "Hey."

He continued looking at his Uncle, not even blinking his eyes. There was a moments pause before his Uncle continued.

"So I guess they operated then."

Harry looked down at the ground. "Yeah they did. The surgeon said it went well."

"That's good," his Uncle muttered as he pulled the mask down to sit on his chin, obviously getting sick of it already.

Harry continued staring at the ground, trying to formulate words in his mind. "I'm so glad you didn't die," he finally said with a shuddering voice. He looked up at his Uncle again. "There's so much that I wanted to tell you."

"Oh?" his Uncle said, staring at him warily, obviously realizing what he wanted to talk about. Harry stood up and slowly made his way over to his Uncles bed, leading his stand with him. He sat on the edge of his Uncles bed, his body facing towards him. Harry looked down at the sheets, still feeling his heart in his throat, the two of them sitting in silence. His Uncle broke the silence, by taking Harry's hand in his own and saying,

"I'm sorry."

Harry scoffed mentally at this statement.

"I love you."

Harry stopped. He looked up at his Uncle, his heart beating more wildly than it had been before. He loves me? He thought to himself in shock. His mind began reeling, trying to find any shred of honesty in those three words. Harry felt his mind began to feel fuzzy as he began to wonder if it was true. But reality hit him like a tonne of bricks, and he looked back down at the sheets. He pulled his hand from his Uncle's grasp, leaning forward slightly, now knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry too," he said softly, he looked back up, looking his Uncle in the eye as he continued. "But sorry just isn't enough."

Vernon Dursley's face fell, this was his last chance to get the brat to stay quiet.

"But I-"

"I'm not five years old anymore," Harry said, feeling stronger, even as he could feel his resolve breaking. "And I know better than to believe your lies."

His Uncle stuttered at him blindly as Harry stood up from the bed, breathing hard.

Harry stood there looking at his Uncle who was looking more and more desperate for his nephew to stay quite about his childhood. Harry took a deep shuddering breath.

"This thing with us is over," he said pausing. Harry walked slowly backwards from the bed, wheeling his stand along with him, the long cord from the bag of morphine to his hand swinging about. "I'm done being manipulated by you."

He turned and made his way to the open door as quickly as his body would allow.

"Wait," his Uncle forced out at him. Harry turned on the spot to face him, just wanting to get out of there before he lost it.

"You won't tell them anything," he snarled at him from his bed. "You won't be able to take their pity."

Harry stared at his Uncle, biting down hard with his teeth. His breath shook as he replied firmly, "Just watch me."


	15. Chapter 15

The bright light flashed before each of Harry's eyes as Dr Alcott examined him once again early that morning.

"Everything's looking fine I must say," he said as he stood up looking at his patient. "If your still going well at midday I'd say you can go home at the end of the day."

Harry sighed with relief as he sat up straight and smiled at Sirius, who was sitting next to him once again looking worried. However he immediately smiled when the Doctor mentioned home.

"Home?" he said curiously. "So, he's going to be ok."

"Absolutely fine."

"Told you," Harry said with a smile.

Dr Alcott pulled a small note pad out of his coat pocket and began to fill something out.

"I'm just going to give you a prescription for some strong pain killers, just to get you through the next few days," he said as he continued scribbling. "Any side effects come straight back here, and you must be extremely careful. We don't want you hurting your already broken ribs."

"Ok," Harry said.

All of a sudden Sirius became stern. "You hear? You have to be careful. Right?" he said.

Harry laughed, "It's my ribs that are broken Sirius not my ears." Seeing his point Sirius relaxed, now certain that his Godson would be careful. Not that it's going to matter for long. Sirius thought to himself, thinking of where he was taking him as soon as he was discharged.

Dr Alcott tore off a sheet of paper and handed the prescription to Sirius. Sirius took it and looked at it curiously as he relaxed a little.

"Ok well that's it then. I'll be back in around lunch time to check on you again."

"Thanks," Harry said as his doctor exited the room, obviously having other patients he needed to see.

Harry turned to Sirius smiling widely as he did so. "See, I'm going to be fine."

"Yeah well, you can't go pulling stunts like this again," he said laughing even as he tried to be stern. "You have no idea how scared I've been seeing you like this."

"I'm glad to see I got you out of the house then," Harry replied.

"By the way how's the move going?"

"Good. Almost done moving everything in, just gotta get the little things in now. Remus has been a total lifesaver helping organize everything, you know what I'm like with that kind of stuff."

"Don't we all," Harry replied as a kitchen hand brought in his breakfast.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully, still wearing her chef hat.

"Morning," Sirius and Harry replied unanimously. The 'kitchen hand' placed the tray on the portable table that sat over the end of Harry's bed. She pushed it up towards him so that he could reach.

"Thanks you," Harry said as she left to deliver other breakfasts. Sirius pulled the chair he was sitting on closer to the bed as he pulled of the fitted lid. He peered onto the tray that Harry had been given, letting out his dog like laugh as he observed the cold toast, runny scrambled eggs and diluted orange juice.

"Oh!" Sirius said in disgust, trying to stem his laughter for the sake of his Godson. "Oh!"

Harry sat there looking at it, trying also not to laugh. "Hmmm." was his only reply.

"Awww we can't have this now can we," Sirius replied as he leant back in his chair smirking.

"Hey it's not that bad," Harry said, as he lifted the plastic spoon full of scrambled eggs into his mouth. However he could not suppress the salty taste of the watery eggs and he pulled a face as he forced himself to swallow.

"Ugh," he said screwing up his face. He looked at Sirius whose face was slightly flushed from laughing. Smiling widely he stood up ruffled Harry's hair affectionately.

"I think I'll pop across the street and get us both something decent to eat hey?" Harry laughed up at him as he placed the lid back on the tray, pushing it away from himself.

"Alright. Thanks," Harry said smiling, hoping that the salty taste would soon leave his mouth.

"No prob," he said taking off his jacket before going outside. "I've just gotta figure out this Muggle money now."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ^*^

"And then before I know it she's saying I don't have enough money! Then I realized I gave her a five instead of a ten. So that was a bit embarrassing I must say," Sirius said as he took the last bite of the bacon and egg roll that he had gotten for himself, Harry having long finished his.

"Well it's official then. You cannot be trust with anything Muggle can you," Harry said, at the same time thinking fiercely. Tell him now. But no matter how many times he had worked himself up to telling Sirius everything, something kept holding him back, he couldn't stop worrying about how exactly Sirius would react.

Sirius's goofy smile faltered as he looked at Harry. "You alright? You don't seem yourself."

Startled from his thoughts, Harry's mind immediately began racing again. Do it now!

"Uh," he began uncertainly. He swallowed nervously as he felt his pulse quicken with nerves. He looked down at the sheets as he began.

"There's uh, something I need to tell you." he said quietly, his fingers playing with the edge of the sheets.

Straight away Sirius began to feel worried. He leant forward, listening intently.

"What's wrong?" he replied, feeling slightly unsure.

Harry brought the hand with the needle up to his face, scratching the area around his stitches unnecessarily.

He opened his mouth to continue, finally fully prepared for what he was going to say, until somebody knocked on the frame of the open door, stopping Harry dead in his tracks. Harry looked up towards the door in shock, ready to strangle whoever had interrupted them. He faltered however, when he saw Mr Weasley standing in the doorway, a wide smile on his face.

"Hello!" he chirped. "Can I come in?"

Sirius looked from Mr Weasley, to Harry and back again before saying, "Arthur! Come in, come in."

Harry tried to suppress his frustration about being interrupted and smiled widely as Mr Weasley walked in rubbing his hands together joyously.

"Merlin Harry you're not looking your best. I know they say a car accident isn't very pleasant but seeing right here!" he said in awe as he approached the bed studying Harry curiously.

"Hi Mr Weasley."

"Oh yes hello. How are you feeling?" he said cheerfully.

"Been better."

"I bet you have." he said as he studied the drip in the back of Harry's arm that was now providing less morphine so as to wean his body off it.

"Is everyone here Arthur?" Sirius said conversationally.

Mr Weasley drew his attention back to Harry and Sirius replying, "Oh yes, Molly and the kids are just downstairs trying to figure out how to work a vending machine. So I thought I'd come on up with out them."

Harry smiled genuinely at this thought, deciding he could atleast put off telling Sirius until later.

"So Harry these Muggle doctors treating you right?"

"Uh yeah, I'm probably going home today."

"Good, good," he said rubbing his hands together. "Now, Sirius could I possibly have a word outside. Order business that's all," he said seeing Harry's curious look.

"Oh," he looked back at Harry.

"I don't mind," he said truthfully.

Sirius nodded his head as he stood up, shaking the crumbs from his breakfast off his lap. "Ok then. We won't be a minute."

Mr Weasley nodded in agreement. "Molly and the kids should be here any minute."

"Ok," Harry said as they left the room quietly together and stood just outside his open door.

Harry leant back on his bed, which had been raised so that he was half lying half sitting. He sighed with frustration about the interruption, no matter who it had been. Now the anticipation would only build up again and make things harder. He closed his eyes, shutting out the morning light that streamed through the window, relaxing his body.

"What do you mean old?" Sirius' voice drifted through the open door quite clearly.

"The doctor mentioned that some of Harry's injuries were considerably older than the ones he got in the accident," Mr Weasley said, softening his voice.

Harry opened his eyes, he looked towards the window into the corridor that Sirius and Mr Weasley were standing outside of. Sirius was looking at Mr Weasley, as though he was just beginning to realize something.

"Meaning?" he inquired hesitantly, now whispering.

Harry watched as Mr Weasley took off his glasses and rubbed them clean on his shirt. Harry sat up in anticipation, waiting for what he would say next, did Mr Weasly some how know? Was his excuse that see through?

"I spoke to Harry's doctor and he mentioned it to me," he said softly.

Mr Weasley put his glasses back on has face, pushing the up to rest on the bridge of his nose. He seemed to sigh as he said much more quietly,

"He wanted to know if Harry had gotten them through some kind of an accident, or if I had reason to believe that," he left his sentence there, stopping himself from saying the words he knew were not true.

"Believe what?" Sirius said desperately, now speaking much softer. Harry held his breath in hopes that he would hear better.

Mr Weasley seemed to fiddle nervously as he answered, "If I had reason to believe that you would beat him," he replied nervously awaiting Sirius' reaction. When there was none he continued, "I said no, I managed to convince him that Harry had gotten into a fight."

"No," Sirius said firmly, merely reassuring himself. He turned away from Mr Weasley and began pacing, muttering something Harry couldn't hear.

"No he would tell me," he said turning back to Mr Weasley, speaking a little louder.

"Sirius," Mr Weasley began.

"No if Harry were being beaten he would tell me. We tell each other everything," Sirius replied thinking about the last few years he and Harry had together.

Harry stared at the window, becoming more and more sure that Mr Weasley had figured him out. He felt his chest constrict, panic began to slowly ebb it's way through his mind, his breathing seemed to become difficult as he listened to the quiet conversation outside his hospital room.

"Sirius let's not jump to conclusions."

"Conclusions? What other conclusions could there be?" Sirius said raising his voice.

"Keep your voice down!" Mr Weasley whispered almost angrily. "Do you want Harry to hear all this?"

Immediately Sirius looked towards Harry through the window, Harry's heart skipped a beat as he faked a smile to him before turning away, his heart pumping wildly. Sirius seemed to calm slightly upon seeing his Godson smiling at him. He took a deep breath, and seemed to choose his next words very carefully. Finally he whispered, almost so quietly that Harry couldn't hear,

"If I find out that that bastard laid a finger on him."

"We don't know that he did Sirius. That's what I'm trying to say," Mr Weasly said, relieved that his companion had quieted a little.

"If he did," Sirius continued. "He wouldn't get away with it. He wouldn't live long enough to regret it."

Against his better judgement, Harry looked up to the window again. Wouldn't live long enough?

"Let's not make empty threats here Sirius."

Sirius looked Mr Weasley in the eye as he said lowly. "It's not an empty threat, and you know it," he paused before starting again fiercely. "He is my Godson, and I will not let that man get away with hurting him."

"Sirius!" Mr Weasley whispered angrily. "I know he is your Godson and you love him, but you cannot go around making empty threats and accusations! We don't know anything, only what we think we know."

Sirius faltered at this. He put his head in his hands as he sat down on one of the chairs near to him. Watching him, Mr Weasley let out a deep breath and sat down next to him, leaning back into the chair. Harry could now only see the tops of their heads and was now having worse trouble hearing them.

"…up to Harry now," he made out from Mr Weasley's voice. "…trust his judgement…"

Harry stopped listening, now wrapped deep in his own thoughts. He too put his head in his hands, as he thought hard. He had never thought Sirius would react like this. Angry yes, but making those kind of threats? Harry sat up straight and looked back at the window, wringing his hands together tightly. He tried to calm himself down a bit as he watched the tops of their heads outside the window. They sat there for a little while longer, sitting in silence, both in deep thought. Finally Mr Weasley stood up.

"Well I think that's more than enough time for them to get a packet of Muggle chips," Mr Weasley said cheerfully, as though their conversation had never existed.

"Ahhh all these Muggles," he said rubbing his hands together. "Shame most of them are sick though," he added as an after thought. "Well I'll best go find the others, we won't be long."

Sirius nodded and stood up, now too smiling as though nothing had happened.

"See you soon," The two parted with a nod, Mr Weasley heading off in one direction, Sirius standing on the spot for a moment. Harry turned away and looked out the window that showed the street below as Sirius re-entered the room.

"Sorry about that. Order business, you know the drill," he said. Harry nodded as he looked at him with a smile, as he sat down on the edge of his bed. Taking a deep breath Sirius began again.

"So what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Harry faltered, having hoped that Sirius would have forgotten.

"Oh um," he began. "I just, uh."

Sirius looked at him expectantly, and Harry couldn't bear to see his reaction to what he was going to say to him.

"I just, don't want to go back to the Dursleys. That's all."

Sirius seemed taken aback, even though he had been expecting something along the lines of this.

"Why?" he said curiously.

Harry took a moment to think before lying again. "It's just really boring. I don't think I could stand another two weeks there. Can I just go back with you?" he added hopefully.

Sirius nodded his head. "Yeah of course you can mate."

Sirius watched his Godson sigh with obvious relief. But he could not shake the ever growing instinct that there was something Harry wasn't telling him.


	16. Chapter 16

"Honestly Harry you have to start putting more into your letters," Hermione said. "Three or four lines is no where near enough information," she said in a motherly tone.

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly.

Hermione's Father had conveniently needed to travel to London today to speak at a dental conference, hence giving Hermione a chance to see Harry before he went home. She and her Father had come by car late that afternoon, and had only arrived minutes before Harry was discharged.

"Hmmm well your forgiven. Just don't go getting into anymore trouble all right? I don't appreciate vague letters from Ron saying you've been hurt up in some kind of accident."

"So that's who told you then," Harry said as the watched the many cars go by on the street, Sirius and Hermione's Father standing behind them talking interestedly.

"Yes. So, are you keeping up with your study?"

Harry laughed loudly. "Trust you to be worrying about homework when we don't have any!"

"Well!" Hermione said indignantly. "You should be looking over your school books so that you don't forget everything," she said pointing her finger at him.

"I won't forget everything!"

"Well, you should be getting prepared," she said. "For…other things," she said trailing her voice off. Catching on to what she meant Harry turned around to make sure Sirius wasn't listening.

"Shush!" Harry replied smiling. "You don't want the wrong people hearing now do you?"

"What?" Hermione said confused.

Harry looked at her incredulously, before whispering in her ear dramatically, "The street lamps have ears!"

Hermione laughed out loudly at this and let both the subject of homework and Horcruxes drop. They continued talking for a little while longer before Sirius and Hermione's father approached them.

"Come on miss. I'll be late," Mr Granger said affectionately.

"Oh Ok," Hermione said. She turned to Harry and gently hugged him, kissing him on the cheek as they parted.

"I'll see you soon. And write longer letters," she added sternly. Harry smiled back at her as he shook Mr Granger's hand.

"Bye." Harry said as they quickly left and headed back towards the parking lot.

"Come on," Sirius said plopping his hand down on Harry's shoulder, as they went out of sight. "We got to get going. We'll be late."

"Where are we going?" Harry questioned as he followed Sirius' lead along the footpath.

"We are going to get you sorted out."

"Oh ok, because that makes so much sense," Harry said sarcastically.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius continued. "Were on our way to St Mathis Hospital for Non-Magical Maladies and Injuries. Which just so happens to be not very far."

Harry blinked, confused. "St Mathis?"

"For non-magical maladies and injuries. It's pretty much like a Muggle hospital, except it's wizard only and they use magic."

"Oh. Since when has that been around?"

"Well when people would break a leg or something everyone would just go to the one hospital. And everything would just get crazy, so they split into two hospitals. One for magical problems, and one for other problems. And that's where were going."

"Oh. Fair enough. So why are we going there?" Harry said as they crossed the busy road at the pedestrian crossing, walking a little slower than normal on his sprained ankle. They continued walking along the opposite path, the hospital behind them growing smaller.

"Duh! To get these ribs and everything sorted out properly! It's not far, about ten minutes walk. It's hidden like Diagon Alley and St Mungos."

Harry nodded and they continued walking slowly, Sirius refusing to let Harry carry his own backpack.

"You know you could let me carry my own bag," Harry said casually.

"No. You're not feeling your best. The last of that morphine stuff is beginning to wear off I can tell. So until I'm sure you're capable of carrying your own bag, I will."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "Hey! Who are you? What have you done with my Godfather! You know, the man that moans when he has to put his own plate in the sink!"

"Oh now that's not funny!" Sirius replied laughing. However his face fell and he suddenly stopped in his tracks, Harry too stopped as realization slid over Sirius' face.

"We've gone past it," he moaned as he turned on the spot and headed back the other way. "Come on." He motioned to Harry who followed, quickly catching up. Sirius scanned the various shops as they walked, annoyed with his mistake.

"Here we are," he said stopping in front of what looked like an abandoned shop.

They approached the door, observing the mess various vandals had made of the door and windows. Sirius pushed open the old wooden door and passed through it. Harry followed, passing through what felt like a sheet of water, entering into the busy waiting room of St Mathis hospital. His eyes were drawn to the many people in the waiting room, some with what looked like everyday injuries, others looking as though they had a bad case of food poisoning. Harry followed Sirius as he approached the reception desk that was shielded by a pane of glass.

"Sirius Black. I have an appointment with Healer Denton," he said.

The witch at the desk looked up at him, slightly shocked. It had been a little over a year since Sirius' name had been cleared, however people were still often shocked to see him walking around like a normal person. However the receptionist collected herself and riffled through a large book.

"Come right through," she said, indicating to a door on her left. "Head straight down the corridor, eighth door on the right."

"Thank you," Sirius said. He turned and motioned to Harry to follow as he held the door open for him. Harry passed through the open door and looked down the long cream  
colored corridor. Together they slowly walked down the corridor, looking interestedly down the ones that came off this one, as they counted the doors they passed. They stopped at the door labeled 'Number 8,' and Sirius knocked loudly.

They heard a scuffle from inside as a chair slid back with a loud screech. A moment later the door opened wide, and Healer Denton greeted them warmly.

"Mr Black? Mr Potter?"

"That's us." Sirius replied as the Healer stood back to let them in, his eyes flashing briefly to Harry's lightning bolt shaped scar. Healer Denton was tall with dark curly hair with a moustache that didn't seem to suit him. Harry took note of the pale blue robes he wore, bearing a symbol much like the St Mungos one.

"Good afternoon. Come in come in," he said as he rounded behind his desk. "Well take a seat, how are we today?"

"Good," they replied unanimously as they sat down on the two chairs on the opposite side of the desk. Harry looked around briefly, observing the certificates that were magically hung on the wall, and the bed that stood against the far wall.

"Very well then. Well I believe you've had an accident Harry. Can I call you Harry?"

Harry nodded to both these questions as the Healer continued.

"Ahhh and I believe you found yourself stuck in a Muggle hospital. I can only imagine how frustrating that was."

"It certainly was," Harry said smiling.

Healer Denton smiled kindly as he looked at a sheet of paper that sat on his desk.

"Well anyway I managed to get a copy of your report from the Muggle hospital. Seems you've got some fractured ribs, a sprained ankle and some severe cuts and bruises."

"That's pretty much it," Harry agreed, looking at Sirius with a smile.

The Healer leaned forward on his desk, observing the stitches Harry had on the side of his face.

"My, my," he said in awe. "Who would think of sewing a person up? Then again I have seen this type of thing before. Muggles."

Sirius laughed softly as he squirmed slightly in his seat.

"Well," Healer Denton said standing up and clapping his hands together. "Lets get this sorted out then shall we? Come and sit up on the side of the bed for me and I'll have a proper look."

Harry nodded standing up from his seat and approaching the bed, sitting on the edge of it as Sirius stood up in the background. The Healer approached his as he snapped on a pair of magical rubber gloves, the same as Muggle ones, yet they were self-cleaning with no need to replace them.

"Right then. Lets start at the top shall we."

After much discussion with the both of them, Healer Denton decided to remove all the stitches from Harry's face and body, which was less slightly painful than he thought it would be, only stinging slightly as each separate one was removed.

"The problem with Muggle stitches is that they can sometimes scar when the wound is fairly deep," he said as he removed the last of the stitches from Harry's stomach. "But not with magic."

After removing them he had magically closed the wounds, and no scars were visible, a fact which Harry was greatly thankful for.

After the stitches were all removed and taken care of, he moved on to Harry's broken ribs and bruises.

"All done," he said as he tapped each of Harry's broken ribs with his wand, relief flowing through Harry as each one was properly healed.

He now stood back, observing Harry's bare chest and back which both bore many painful bruises. Sirius winked at Harry, who smiled in return as the Healer came to a decision.

"Alright you can put your shirt back on. I'll give you some cream for the bruises," he said turning around and heading back to his desk. He pulled out a purple jar roughly the size of Harry's fist, and handed it to Sirius.

"Rub that onto every bruise morning and night for a couple of days and they'll be gone in no time," he said as Harry pulled his T-shirt on over his head, nodding as he did so.

Leaning casually against his desk, he continued. "I'll leave your ankle to heal by it's self. It doesn't seem to be giving you too much trouble, as you can still walk on it. If it gets painful though, start rubbing some of that cream onto it as well."

"Ok. Thank you," Harry said genuinely.

"You're welcome. All right then. I'll arrange for a fake letter to be sent to the hospital you were taken to, saying that you've been for check ups at London General, and that should be about all," he said cheerfully.

"Good to meet you both," he said shaking their hands.

"Same here," Sirius said.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"All you need to do now is see the witch at reception and she'll have some papers for you to sign," he said looking at Sirius.

"Ok."

"Alright then. Have a nice afternoon then," Healer Denton said as he opened the door for them.

The two looked at each other as they quickly walked down the hall the way they had come.

"He was nice," Sirius said casually.

"Yeah at least I can move properly now," Harry replied with a laugh.

Sirius looked at him worried. "Was it really that bad?"

"No!" Harry replied laughing. "No just exaggerating," Harry said as he pushed open the door to let Sirius pass.

Sirius shook his head in wonder as he signed the papers the witch had prepared for him. Hitching Harry's bag back over his shoulder they left the hospital together, passing through the sheet of water and entering Muggle London once again.

"So where are we going now? Home?" Harry said hopefully.

"Why don't we go visit the Weasley's?"

Harry smiled at this thought, he hadn't seen them very long this morning. "Sounds great."


	17. Chapter 17

"Hello," Molly Weasley said cheerfully as she opened the back door that led into the cramped kitchen of the Burrow.

"Oh, Harry dear, you look much better," she said as she stepped back to allow them entry.

"Thanks." Harry said gratefully as he and Sirius entered, the smell of roast chicken wafting from the magical oven to their right.

"I suppose you've been to visit St Mathis then have you?"

"Yeah we have," Sirius said smiling as he placed Harry's bag down near the door so that they wouldn't forget it when they left.

"It's so quiet compared to St Mungo's," Harry said as he sat down at the table, accepting the glass of pumpkin juice that he was offered.

"So where is everyone?" Sirius said sitting down beside him, lounging back and rocking on the chair."

"Arthur's still at work, more of those 'meta-morph' medals are selling like chocolate frogs," she said as she wiped her hands on her flowery apron as she sat down with them, just as the sounds of yelling could be suddenly heard from upstairs.

"No, I'm serious, give it back!" somebody yelled.

Mrs Weasley sighed as she rolled her eyes wearily. "Those two have been at each others throats over everything this afternoon," she said as the fight upstairs continued.

"Look just give it back!" The same voice yelled again. Distant thuds could be heard as someone descended the stairs, both their voices becoming clearer.

"I will when you give me back my book," came the voice of Ginny as she casually entered the kitchen, holding Ron's battered old chessboard triumphantly.

"Hey," she said, smiling at Harry. "You look heaps better."

"Thanks," Harry said, a little quietly as Sirius gave him a knowing glance.

"Ginny!" Ron yelled, as he too entered the kitchen looking furious, and quickly turning red with anger. "Oh hey," he said, sparing the two visitors a glance. He quickly turned back to Ginny who had moved around to the other side of the table.

"Look, just give it back!" he said furiously to his sister, who folded her arms holding tightly onto the chessboard.

"When you give me back my book," she retorted, her fiery red hair glistening.

Groaning in frustration he appealed to his mother. "Mum I was using that! She just took it!"

"Yeah!" Ginny agreed angrily as she pushed her long fringe out of her face. "Just like he took my book!" she said turning to her mother.

Mrs Weasley snapped her head back to Ron, who was looking livid.

"Ronald," she said very calmly. "Did you take your sister's book?"

Harry and Sirius exchanged quick glances trying to keep a straight face.

Ron quickly shut his mouth, realizing he had lost this fight. "It's under my bed," he said tonelessly, glaring at his sister.

Ginny paused for a moment, glaring furiously at her brother, before quickly rounding the table and thrusting the chess board at Ron before running up the stairs in search of her book.

Ron let out a relieved sigh as he studied his chessboard as though checking for damage. Satisfied that it was OK, he put it on the table as he sat down with them.

"What happened to…?" Ron said lightly as he waved a hand in front of his freckled face.

Harry explained where he had been as conversation began flowing freely amongst the four of them, as Mrs Weasley continued to prepare dinner with the help of Harry.

"So what have you got planned for your birthday dear?" Mrs Weasley inquired as Harry peeled some potatoes by hand. He stopped at this thought, considering it for a moment.

"Oh I don't really know. Haven't really thought about it that much."

Mrs Weasley smiled at this as she continued a little sternly. "Well you better get thinking young man, it's only about two weeks away."

Harry nodded in agreement as he washed the last of the peeled potatoes under the cool stream of water that rushed out of the gargoyle tap.

Sirius stood up and said to the room at large, "I've got to go, Molly. I'll be back in time for tea. Just got a few things to do, that's all."

"Where are you going?" Harry said curiously.

"Just going to get some more stuff set up in the house so you can move in tonight. That's all," he said picking up Harry's bag swinging it over his shoulder.

"Do you want some help?" Harry said as he quickly cut the potatoes he had been peeling.

"Nah, that's alright. You stay here," he said as he headed towards the door

"OK."

Sirius quickly left, shutting the door as he did so. Mrs Weasley's eyes followed him carefully as he walked casually into the backyard where he turned on the spot, apparating with a 'crack.' She turned to pick up a wooden spoon when something out in the garden caught her eye. Harry watched as she peered out of the window into the increasingly dark backyard before taking a deep breath.

"Ginerva!" she hollered loudly, as she turned around picking up the wooden spoon to stir the gravy with.

"Why don't you sit down Harry? You've done enough for tonight," she said kindly to him over her shoulder as she stirred the gravy over her magical stovetop.

"OK," Harry nodded as Ginny who had been reading quietly in the living room entered, holding the book Ron had taken earlier.

"Yes Mum?" she said slightly annoyed.

Mrs Weasley turned around sharply.

"Did you do what I asked you to do this afternoon?" she said, putting a hand on her hip, the other brandishing the gravy-covered spoon about, flicking gravy everywhere.

"Umm," Ginny said, obviously having forgotten what she had been told to do.

"Put the chickens back in the hen house!" her mother replied, waving the spoon around again.

Ginny shut her eyes in realization. "Awww Mum," she whined slightly. "You know I hate doing that!"

"I don't want to hear it," Mrs Weasley replied turning back to the stove.

"But Mum!"

Mrs Weasley put up a hand, indicating her to be quiet. "I don't want to hear it," she said plainly.

Annoyance took over Ginny's features, and she looked as though she were about to say something else but thought better of it. She turned to look out of the window, before putting her book down on the bench and heading out the backyard.

Ron sniggered loudly as the door swung shut behind her. "I'd be quiet if I were you Ronald you've been in enough trouble today," she said warningly. She turned her head around to Harry who was pulling out a chair to sit on.

"Harry be a dear and go help her. She'll be there all night if you don't."

"Oh OK," Harry said, trying not to smile too much. He pushed the chair back under and quickly followed Ginny to the hen house.

"Hey wait up," he said, pulling his jacket on as he breathed in the crisp air.

Ginny turned around and waited for a moment to let him catch up.

"I'll help you," he said nicely.

"Oh," she said, smiling mischievously. "Thanks."

They continued walking toward the hen house as Harry tried to find something to say.

"Why don't you like putting the hens away? You've done it before."

Ginny laughed before answering sheepishly. "They look at me funny."

Harry laughed at this as he held the door to the large enclosure open for her.

"They're chickens! How can they look at you funnily?"

Laughing she replied, "I don't know, they just do!"

They looked around the enclosure at the chickens that were wandering around. Harry slowly approached an unsuspecting chicken, taking hold of it quickly by the legs. Harry smiled as it clucked and fluttered furiously around in his hands, before settling down.

He carried it over to it's nesting house and put it down, fluttering and clucking until it wandered off in search of it's nest, very much used to this routine.

He turned around to see Ginny not far behind him, holding a second one. He smiled at her nervously as he let her through the doorway and chased a second chicken down.

"I'm telling you! They look at me funny!" she said as she picked up another chicken and held it to her chest as she carried it back to the nesting house.

Harry laughed openly at this remark, and she stuck her tongue out at him, making the beast within his chest cheer openly.

They soon had only the large rooster to get, neither of them keen to pick up the animal with a violent reputation.

"Why don't you get it?" Ginny said cheerfully.

"You!" Harry said studying the rooster warily, remembering only too clearly how viscous he could be.

"No!" Ginny replied in dismay.

Harry sighed, and gritted his teeth as he forced himself to pick it up quickly. Immediately it began to screech loudly, and scratch at Harry's arms, which were thankfully protected by his jumper.

Ginny followed him to the nesting house as he let the vicious rooster free as he shut the door quickly, locking them in for the night.

Ginny sighed with relief as she brushed off the feathers that had stuck to her clothing.

"You know I've always wondered who was the first person to look at a chicken, and decide to eat the first thing that came out of its butt," Harry said conversationally as he too brushed off some remaining feathers.

Ginny laughed loudly at this, and the beast inside Harry's chest applauded even more loudly than before.

"That's so disgusting when you put it like that!" she said good heartedly. "I guess that's why I still like you."

Harry stopped, the words she just said sinking in. Still likes me? He thought to himself in wonder. He looked down at her, as she waited expectantly for him to reply.

Clearing his throat he said nervously, "You still like me?"

Ginny looked at him incredulously. "Who said I ever stopped?"

Harry opened his mouth, trying to say something, but his brain seemed paralyzed, the only words penetrating were, Who said I ever stopped?

"Harry?" Ginny said, worry coming over her slightly over what she had said.

"I-I still like you too," he blurted out, without even thinking, the beast inside of him roaring with approval.

Ginny smiled with relief as she stepped closer to him. "You're not just saying that?"

Oh Merlin what am I saying? He thought to himself as he fiddled with his fingers nervously.

Harry shook his head slightly, "No. I'm not just saying it," he said, his mouth feeling very dry as he suddenly realized how close they were.

"Oh," she said, looking up at him with a smile. "So what does this mean?"

Harry opened his mouth slightly, trying to say something. Trying to tell her it wasn't safe to be together, trying to reign some self control. He couldn't think.

Suddenly they were inches apart, he could almost count every freckle in the light that shone from the house behind them. He could almost feel her breath upon his face as his mind cloud over.

Before he realized what was happening, their lips met in a soft and tender kiss. Without knowing exactly what he was doing or why, he deepened their kiss and bought his hand up to rest on the side of her face, his heart pumping wildly somewhere in his throat.

Harry smiled into their kiss as the beast inside of him cheered more loudly than ever.


	18. Chapter 18

I guess that's why I still like you. Those eight simple words had echoed through Harry's mind ever since Ginny had said them, not so long ago. His heart seemed to quicken every time he thought about the kiss they had exchanged in secret that evening, the brief taste of her lip balm, the simple innocence of it all. Merlin how he had missed moments like that.

"Harry?" Sirius said.

Startled, Harry looked up in shock. Collecting himself he replied.

"Yeah?"

His Godfather seemed to shake his head at the young boy who was so obviously lost in thought. He held up the sheet set he had been searching for downstairs.

"These ones?"

Fully coming back down the Earth now, Harry observed the blood red bed sheets that Sirius held before him.

"Yeah. Great."

Smiling, Sirius threw one corner of the fitted sheet towards Harry from the opposite side of the bed. The two had arrived at their new home only a half-hour ago and had quickly set about preparing Harry's bedroom. Their new house was beginning to look more like a home with the presence of many furniture items, which Harry recognized from Grimmauld place.

Random items such as kitchen utensils and magical soap dispensers lay about the house in the most absurd and irrelevant places, and it had taken Sirius forever to remember exactly where Remus had put the bed sheets. In this time however, Harry had quickly become acquainted with the bedroom he could proudly call his own. The comfortable double bed, a roomy closet that was built into the walls, and a dark wooden desk that he would have normally used for studying.

Harry shook the dark red sheets until it spread out across the length of the bed, and the two made quick work of tucking it messily under the mattress. Yet even as he and Sirius messily made his bed, his thoughts kept going back to the kiss he and Ginny had shared. He couldn't get the thought of it out of his head. What does this mean? He thought to himself. He couldn't get the thoughts out of his head, and the more he thought about it, the more confusing it became.

Forcing himself back to reality, he made himself concentrate on what he was meant to be doing. He watched as Sirius spread the think royal blue blanket out across the bed, taking the corner closest to him he pulled it neatly into place. He looked up at Sirius curiously as he realized they had been working in silence.

Sirius too looked up, catching his eye. He smirked widely and began to chuckle openly.

"What?" Harry said defensively. Shaking his head Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Alright. Go on. Spill," he said waving his hands in the air a little.

Now more confused than ever, Harry replied again, "What?"

Sighing, Sirius continued.

"Well it's obvious that you have something that you need to get off your chest. So feel free to spill."

Harry shut his eyes and sighed. Merlin am I that see-through? Harry too sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Sirius with his head in his hands.

"Awww Sirius I've done something stupid. Something," he paused before going on. "Something really stupid."

He smiled despite himself as he sat with his head in his hands as he awaited Sirius' answer. None came. Harry sat up straighter and peered over his shoulder at Sirius who was expectantly waiting for him to continue.

"Aren't you going to ask me what it was?"

"Do I ever have to?" Sirius replied comically.

Harry quickly turned so that he could see Sirius better as he blurted out his story.

"I kissed Ginny!"

Sirius at first seemed quick taken aback by this statement, but laughed loudly and triumphantly as he leaned back on his hand.

"Well no, that's a lie. She kissed me!" Harry said trying not to smile at his Godfather's antics.

Still smiling widely Sirius replied. "So you kissed each other? Is that what your trying to say?"

"Yes!" Harry said, relieved that he had grasped it so quickly. Sirius laughed loudly, and Harry too laughed at this comical reaction.

Chuckling again Sirius breathed in deeply as he tried to clear his head. "So does this mean that you're back together?"

"I don't know." Harry said bewildered, as he forced himself to stop smiling.

"Do you want to be back together?" Sirius replied reasonably.

"Well of course I do! But it's not that simple," Harry said turning back around slowly.

"Because of Voldemort," Sirius stated calmly.

Harry sighed in dismay, "Yes. I don't want him to hurt her. To use her like he did in second year. Does that make any sense?" Harry said.

"Yeah. You care about her. It's natural you don't want her being hurt."

"Thank you! That's what I've been trying to say to her! To everyone!" Harry said, relieved that Sirius seemed to be taking his side over this. He turned back to face his Godfather who was lounging back on his arm.

"What should I do?" Harry said desperately.

Sirius contemplated this thought for a moment before replying in his now calm demeanor, "That's not something I can decide for you. But I think you and Ginny need to talk."

Harry sighed and turned back around facing away from his Godfather. He had been half hoping that his Godfather would decide for him, would help take the load of many decisions he had to make.

"So is this why I kept catching you two stealing glances at one another during dinner?"

"Probably," Harry replied tonelessly. Sirius nodded in agreement, pausing for a moment before asking a burning question.

"So what was it like?" Sirius said eagerly. "The kiss I mean."

Harry stopped mid thought, trying to form words to describe it in his mind. How did you describe something so simple, yet so complex at the same time?

"It was good," Harry replied simply. He heard Sirius chuckle behind him. Laughing softly he continued with more enthusiasm, "It was really good."

Sirius Black frowned as he rummaged around his new bedroom looking for the pajamas he had been wearing the night before. He stood straight, scratching his head.

What in the name of Merlin have I done with them? Sirius thought to himself. Normally at Grimmauld place he knew exactly where everything was. His dirty socks were most likely under his bed, his wallet on the floor somewhere, his shoes would most likely be scattered here and there, but his pajamas always found themselves thrown onto the chair that normally sat in the corner. But at his new home, he didn't have a chair, nothing was the same, and he still couldn't find his pajamas. He wandered around his spacious room, wondering how he had managed to mess it up so badly, after having stayed only two nights. Frustrated, he decided to retrace his steps from that morning, and quickly found his pajama pants, but still no shirt.

Throwing his hands in the air he picked up the shirt he had been wearing that day and pulled it on along with his new found pants. He then poked his head quietly out of his room, searching for the sign that he had not extinguished all the candles. It was pitch dark, Harry having been in bed for over an hour.

Sirius shut the door and slowly made his way to his bed, yawning widely as he did so. The night before had been long, and he had spent the most of it worrying excessively.  
Sirius flopped down and pulled the sheets up on his unmade bed as he tried to get comfortable. Seeing Harry last night had just been too much like the night of the third task. He rolled over, trying to get comfortable as he remembered the pain and anguish Harry had been going through that summer, even though he had kept it very quiet from everybody.

*FLASHBACK*

Sirius stirred a teaspoon of sugar into the mugs of hot cocoa he had made. He tipped a little bit out of each into the stone sink before turning and heading quickly up the stairs that led to the first floor, levitating the mugs in front of him. He followed them quietly into the dark and grim sitting room where his young Godson sat stiffly on the comfortable couch, his legs tucked up underneath him.

"You alright now?" Sirius said quietly as he sat down next to him.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry replied softly as he took hold of the mug floating in front of him. Sirius nodded and they sat together in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Not long ago Sirius had entered the kitchen looking for a midnight snack, only to find a nervous and shaking Harry sitting silently in the sitting room. He knew immediately what must have happened. Another of the terrifying nightmares Harry had been experiencing since the third task.

Sirius watched as Harry sipped the hot cocoa, staring at the worn carpet. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shrugged indecisively. Sirius nodded supportively as he sipped his own drink, watching his Godson.

Harry gently rested his mug on his knee as he tucked his feet more firmly to his side. He steeled himself as he began,

"Sometimes I," He faltered, taking a breath. "Sometimes I can't help but thinking I should've done something more."

"There was nothing you could have done. There was nothing anyone could have done."

Harry said nothing as he held his mug tightly in his hands. Sirius knew he didn't particularly like sharing these kind of details, yet he hoped he would continue for his sake.

"I know. But I just feel so guilty all the time," Harry said, still staring down at the carpet.

Sirius stayed silent, leaving Harry space to continue. He didn't exactly know what to say to help him, he knew it would take more than a few simple words.

Harry breathed in deeply. "I came back, and Cedric didn't," he said lowly. "It's not fair."

Sirius nodded in agreement, not knowing how to respond, yet glad that Harry was telling him these things. Sirius watched him as Harry fiddled around nervously with his mug. They sat in for a few moments, before Harry continued nervously.

"I can't seem to get Voldemort's face out of my head," Harry said. "It's like he's everywhere I look."

"He's not a face you'd easily forget is he?" Sirius said softly.

Harry laughed bitterly and took another small sip of his drink, resting it on his knee again. He swallowed nervously, wanting to get everything off his chest now that he had the chance.

"It's like no matter what I'm doing, he's always at the back of my mind. I can't stop thinking about him, or any of them," he said, feeling is throat constricting painfully as he did. Seeing this, Sirius put his mug down and put an arm around him supportively. Harry stiffened slightly, then leaned into the embrace.

"It gets easier," Sirius said as he rubbed the top of his arm gently. "It will get easier," he said again, this time more firmly hoping that Harry would believe him for his own sake.

Sirius sighed internally as Harry nodded his head uncertainly, even though he couldn't quite believe him.

*END FLASHBACK*

Sirius rolled over again, deep in thought about that night. It was that summer that had bought he and Harry closer together, and he was glad that Harry was able to tell him those things. He knew Harry well enough to know that he rarely liked to openly share his feelings about incidents like that. And now after the death of Dumbledore, Sirius knew he should ask exactly how Harry was going. In the few days they had seen each other since the funeral Harry had not bought it up, and Sirius did not want to push the subject.

Sirius rolled over again as he pulled the sheets tightly around himself, trying to shut out the unnaturally cool summer's night. He forced himself to push all thoughts from his mind, and get a decent night sleep for once.


	19. Chapter 19

A dark haired teen sighed as he observed with distaste, the greasy black marks, which had stained his hands and lower arms. He reached for the silver tap on the Muggle styled kitchen sink, turning it on as he once again attacked the stains. He turned on the hot water as he tried in frustration to remove the dirty marks, that had been the result of his tampering with Sirius' old motorbike.

He smiled at the work he and his Godfather had undertaken in their attempt to get the bewitched motorcycle working again. They had spent the majority of their afternoon tinkering around, neither of them completely knowing what they were doing, Sirius having not seen his beloved bike for many years. They had recently emerged from their Muggle garage, covered in grease and oil stains, grinning stupidly at how Mr Weasley would have loved this particular task.

Harry looked around the kitchen and large living area as he scrubbed at his arms, smiling at the way it had turned out. They had been living here for a little over a week now, and it had not taken them long to organize everything that had been taken from Grimmauld Place. He surveyed the once old and dusty couches that now sat infront of the enlarged fireplace, the kitchen utensils that had been found in the attic, to the linen that now resided in the unused Muggle laundry. The only thing that they had not taken from Grimmauld place was Kreacher, a fact Harry was very thankful for.

Harry looked up as Sirius entered the kitchen and groaned in frustration.

"It won't come off," he said as he turned off the taps, giving up.

Sirius shrugged at him and held up his hands to his own face, turning them over.

"Came off for me."

Harry looked, opening his mouth in protest.

"Well how did you do that?" he said shaking his hands dry.

Sirius shrugged again, turning his back to look into the pantry. "Magic I suppose."

Harry rolled his eyes at himself, suddenly realizing the obvious.

"Well could you get this off for me?" he appealed, annoyed that he didn't think of it beforehand.

"Hmmm, I might," Sirius said as he looked through the now fully stocked pantry. "But then again I might not," he said teasingly.

Dismayed Harry continued, "Please!"

Sirius seemed to seriously consider this before answering again. "Hmmm, no."

Harry sighed internally, but refused to let take the bait and beg. "Fine then," he said as he turned around. "Be an ass."

Sirius watched with a twisted smile as his Godson walked out of the kitchen and made his way into the living room. Suppressing his dog like laugh he shut the pantry door with a bang. He quickly made his way after Harry, causing him to turn around curiously. Sirius grinned devilishly at Harry, who quickly realized what his intentions were. Before Harry could react, Sirius had quickly wrapped his arms around his middle and tackled him to the hard floor, both laughing loudly.

Harry squirmed around, trying desperately to pin Sirius down to the floor, grabbing the wrist that threatened to overpower him as always. Sirius twisted out of the tight grip Harry had on his wrist and his hand dove straight to his toned stomach, which was thankfully now free from the painful bruises. Immediately Harry began to laugh uncontrollably, and he desperately tried to push Sirius' hand away.

"No tickling!" Harry gasped out in dismay. "Not fair!"

Sirius threw back his head in laughter as the two continued fighting each other, arms and legs flailing this way and that. Sirius laughed maniacally as he finally succeeded in pinning Harry's arms and ankles to the ground. Harry struggled against the hold on him, then exclaimed loudly,

"That is so not fair! You're stronger than me!"

Sirius released him laughing and rolled over onto his back, slightly breathless.

"Merlin I'm too old for this."

"Bull," Harry said to his left. "You're not that old."

"Thirty-nine next March," he reminded him. "I'm not far off forty you know."

"Well when you put it that way," Harry said.

"Hmmm, and speaking of age, have you decided what you want to do for your birthday?"

"Oh," Harry said as he raised a dirty hand to his face to rub his eye under his glasses.

"Err- I don't know."

"You don't know?" Sirius said raising himself up on one elbow to look at his Godson incredulously.

"I still haven't thought about it," Harry replied. "Maybe a dinner with the Weasleys?  
Sirius nodded in agreement as he lay back down. "Well keep thinking. Only about a week and a half left."

Harry raised his eyebrows, since staying with Sirius, time had seemed to speed up. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him as he remembered he was yet to tell Sirius of his plans for after his birthday. Sirius and Harry lay on the hard wooden floor for a few more minutes, discussing potential plans for his up coming birthday before Sirius asked,

"So what's happening with you and a certain red head? I was seeing some pretty mixed signals the other day."

Harry's mind reeled back to when the Weasleys had visited a few days ago, he had gone to many measures to ensure that he and Ginny were not left alone together. However he had not been able to stop the fleeting glances that she kept giving him, the ones that made the beast inside of him applaud unnecessarily. Harry groaned before replying,

"Don't bring her up, what ever you do," Harry continued with a sigh, "I don't think this self control can last much longer."

Sirius scoffed loudly at this statement, causing Harry to look at him in wonder.

"You're a Potter," Sirius said. "You don't have that type of self control."

Harry sat up, mouth opening in protest. "Yes I do!"

"It's in your genes! You don't stand a chance."

"I'm gonna get you!" Harry said as he launched himself at Sirius, who quickly responded.

"Like you did last time?" he said, as they wrestled again. However it was short lived when the fireplace in front of them roared to life with a flash of emerald green flames. They stopped mid wrestle and watched as Lupin staggered out of their enlarged fireplace, coughing slightly. He straightened up and looked around frantically.

"Sirius!" he called out stepping forward.

"Down here Moony," Sirius said, as he strained slightly to keep holding down Harry's arm. Lupin looked down, blinking at the sight of them. He seemed to shake his head before ushering them up quickly.

"What's up?" Sirius said as he released Harry, standing slowly.

Lupin seemed to wilt a little at these words, he drew a deep breath before beginning.

"There's been an attack."

"Where?" Sirius asked apprehensively as Harry quickly stood at this news, straightening his askew shirt.

"Gringotts," Remus replied. "The Order needs everyone at headquarters for a briefing in five minutes."

Sirius nodded and immediately went into the kitchen in order to get his wand, Remus in tow. Harry stayed in the living room, straightening the couch that they had moved as he listened quietly to their conversation.

"What happened?" Sirius muttered as he pulled on a sweater.

"Don't know exactly," Remus replied. "Not sure how many are dead, but Diagon Alley has been evacuated. Ministry thinks there may still be Death Eaters lurking in Gringotts, down in the shafts maybe."

They came back into the lounge room to where Harry was and headed for the French doors that opened onto the back porch. Sirius looked pointedly at Harry.

"You, Floo to the Weasleys," he said in a serious tone.

"What!" Harry said in dismay, stepping forward.

"They'll know by now, stay there until I come and get you."

"But-" Harry began.

"Well you're not coming, and there's no way you're staying here alone while Death Eaters are on rampage!"

Harry sighed, but did not move. Sirius opened the door and let Remus outside so that they could both apparate back to Grimmauld place.

"Now," Sirius said strongly. "I'm waiting," he said pointedly.

Harry clenched his jaw shut to stop himself from protesting again and turned around the fireplace, taking a small handful of floo powder from the jar on the mantle piece.

"Be careful," Harry said, still feeling slightly annoyed at being ordered around.

"I will. I'll try not to be long," he said as he shut the door behind him. Harry watched as he quickly followed Remus outside to the apparation point. After watching them go, he sighed to himself, before throwing the powder into the fireplace as he stepped in and said in a loud clear voice,

"The Burrow."

"Sirius wouldn't let you go either would he?" Ron said to Harry later on that afternoon.

"I didn't get a chance to ask, but he made it pretty clear," Harry said, smiling a little as he helped his friend with the last of the de-gnoming. Harry picked up the sole remaining gnome and quickly swung it around his head like a lasso, then letting it go sending it soaring into the air.

Harry and Ron stood back, and watched as the many gnomes staggered away in the field adjacent to the house, bumping into each other and falling over.

"So you still like it there with Sirius?" Ron said as they headed back inside.

"Yeah it's good, finally finished organizing everything the other day," Harry replied smiling.

Ron nodded, happy that his friend was enjoying what he had been denied for so many years.

"Hey! Wanna play chess?" Ron said, lighting up.

"What's the point you know you're going to win!" Harry said after nodding in agreement.

"Oh well," Ron said. "I'll run upstairs and get my set," he said as he bolted upstairs.

"Oh! Sorry sis," Harry heard him say, just as Ginny emerged from the bottom of the staircase.

Ginny saw him, and smiled as she greeted him.

"Hey Harry. I thought that was you out there with my idiot brother."

"Hey," Harry replied, just as his heart began to pump a little faster. They were alone. He suddenly became aware of the close fitting shirt she was wearing, how it hugged every curve perfectly.

"I was sort of hoping to catch you alone," she said, putting one of her hands in her jean pocket as she stepped slightly closer to him.

"Oh?"

She nodded, not saying anything as though waiting for him to make the first move. When he didn't however, she continued.

"So, we kissed the other night," she said smiling.

Harry looked away, avoiding the smile that he loved so much. He knew this would happen, but not exactly what to do.

"No," he began uncertainly. "You kissed me."

"True," she said nodding her head, still edging slowly closer to him. "But it was you who continued it."

"Err," he said, trying desperately to use some self control.

"It was probably the painkillers talking," he continued off handedly, trying to steer to conversation out of dangerous waters.

"Oh," she said, failing to hide a smile. "Are they talking now?" she said, just as Harry realized exactly how close she had come to him. He could feel her warm breath on his face, hers only inches from his. Suddenly his mind clouded over, and all thoughts of self control, all thoughts of Voldemort left him.

Their lips brushed briefly before the sounds of Ron's footsteps thumping on the stairs above them brought Harry back down to earth. Harry pulled away from her, leaving them slightly breathless as the monster inside his chest growled in anger. He looked at Ginny wide eyed as Ron entered the kitchen, chessboard under his arm.

"Ready?" he said, not waiting for an answer as he sat down at the table and began throwing the pieces randomly on the board, letting them automatically go to their correct places.

Harry tore his eyes away from Ginny, who currently resembled 'the cat who swallowed the bird.'

"Yup."

Harry pulled out a chair and sat down, trying his best not to think about what had just, or what had nearly happened.

See. He thought to himself. I have self control.

He took a deep breath and watched as Ron swapped two of the wrongly placed pieces, then made his first move.

Harry took note of his move, and began to look for some sort of a game plan, even though he knew already that he would be beaten. He made his first move, just as the chair beside him was pulled back with a scrape, by Ginny sitting down beside him. Harry bit his lip softly, trying his best to ignore her as he waited for Ron to make his move. However this was slightly complicated as Ginny moved her chair closer to his, and whispered into his ear teasingly,

"You almost kissed me."

Harry bit down harder as he felt her warm breath blowing softly onto his ear and neck as she spoke these words. His heart began to beat faster as Ron moved one of the white rooks.

Harry tried to focus on the game, on his next move. He continued looking for a strategy, and he could see his pieces becoming restless. He quickly made a move, in hopes of distracting himself from Ginny, however she would not let up.

As Ron looked down intently at the board, she leaned over again and whispered into his ear again.

"The other night, you tasted nice."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and once again bit down on his lip.

Ron moved another of his rooks, not even looking up, he continued staring down at the board in deep thought, thus giving Ginny another chance. Quickly checking that Ron was well occupied she leant across again, Harry awaiting what she was going to say next.

He could feel her breath on his neck and waited, slightly apprehensively for her next words, but was shocked at her next move. She leant closer, and kissed the skin on his jaw line, just below his ear. Unprepared his mouth dropped open as she gently sucked, sending shivers through his body.

Self control Harry, he thought to himself desperately. SELF CONTROL!

I shouldn't be letting her do this, he thought as she peppered soft, gentle kisses down his jaw line. I can't let her do this.

He desperately looked up at Ron, who was blissfully unaware of the scene unfolding around him.

I can't let her do this! he thought to himself more firmly, just as she moistened her lips, and continued kissing his back and forth along his jaw, still sending shivers and tingles through his body, as he unconsciously leaned into her kisses.

Yes I can, another part of him said, probably the part closest to his jaw.

No I can't! SELF CONTROL HARRY!

Sod self control, she's kissing me!

Suddenly she began to move, now placing stronger kisses down the side of his neck, placing her hand on his arm.

I have to stop her, he thought again.

No I don't. You know you don't.

Suddenly, the image of her lying in the chamber of secrets almost five years ago flashed into his mind, he pulled away blurting out,

"Uhh Knight to F5."

Immediately Ginny too, leant away just in time as Ron looked up.

"What? You can't do that," he said in dismay.

Collecting himself he looked down at the board, Ron's white pieces yelling abuse at him while his own pieces shook their heads in dismay.

"Oh. Umm Knight to F6 I mean," Harry said nervously.

Ron peered at him, looking slightly worried. "You alright mate?"

"I'm fighting with myself," he said sharply, not looking at Ginny. "And loosing," he added darkly as an after thought. Ron nodded, still peering at him strangely when Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen.

"Ronald! I've been looking for you young man!" she said pointing her finger at him sharply. "That bedroom of your looks like you've set a Niffler loose in it! Clean it up now!"

"But Mum! We just started a game!" Ron said in dismay, standing up a little, thankfully drawing the attention away from himself. He stole a look at Ginny, whose face looked thoroughly flushed.

"I don't care! If it's not done in half an hour you won't get any of the biscuits I'm making," Mrs Weasley continued as she bustled into the kitchen, pulling on her flowery apron over her robes.

Ron left the room with a growl and stomped up stairs, grumbling all the way.

Mrs Weasley seemed to sigh as she shook her head. She turned around to where Harry and Ginny still sat.

"Would you two be dears and put the chickens away before it gets dark. Then you can go back to your game."

"Sure," Ginny said, standing up and heading straight for the back door. Harry quickly followed her out the back door as she marched towards the hen house with out a backward glance at Harry.

"Ginny wait!" he called to her, wanting to talk to her. She reached the gate and opened it wide, locking it into place when Harry caught up to her.

"Ginny I-" he began. However he stopped abruptly when she turned around with a blazing look on her face, holding a finger in the air.

"Stop talking!" she commanded. Slightly taken aback by the forcefulness of this, Harry closed his mouth completely and waited for her to speak.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, lowering her finger. Looking back up at him she began very calmly and factually,

"Were going to take this in turns. It's polite and it keeps me from yelling at you."

Harry raised his eyebrows at this, but knew better than to speak, and incur the Weasley wrath, he instead waited for her to continue.

Still looking at him she continued again. "You've had your turn, now it's mine. I know why you think we can't be together. It's because of Voldemort and putting me at risk. But I don't care. With or without you I'm still at risk. For Merlin's sake us Weasley's are 'blood traitors!' Of course I'm at risk. But I don't care."

She looked up into his eyes deeply, and he forced himself to look down at the ground.

"But-" Harry, began.

"Shut up! It's not your turn!" she said forcefully. Harry fell silent again as she continued.

"I know you'd probably hate yourself if something happened, but I wouldn't."

Suddenly she took his hand in hers, squeezing it tightly, causing him to look her in the eye.

"I won't stop living my life, just because of one evil git," she said looking deep into his eyes. "You can't either. Because then he's already won."

Ginny paused at this, sighing slightly as she worked herself up to what she wanted to say next.

"I need to know, if there's the slightest chance that you still want us to be together. If there's the slightest chance we could become a couple again."

He looked back down at the ground silently not knowing what to say, or even how to say it, his heart pounding in his chest, her words floating through his mind.

Ginny sighed, and let go of his hand, walking away. He desperately looked back up at her as she walked away from him, not knowing what to do. Suddenly his legs began working and he quickly followed her.

"Wait," he said grabbing her by the arm and pulling her close to him, her body pressed flush against his own, as he looked her in the eyes.

"Now it's my turn," he said firmly, his eyes darkening as he leant down, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Ginny stiffened slightly, but quickly relaxed into his embrace, kissing him back softly. He smiled into her mouth, relieved that he had communicated his message.

They broke apart slightly, each a little shocked at what had just happened. Ginny recovered quickly and said,

"I'm sorry. Could you please repeat that?"

Smiling with relief again, Harry leant down again, kissing her more firmly as her hands made their way to his neck.

Mrs Weasley watched from the kitchen window as measuring cups magically measured out flour for the biscuits. She smiled as Harry caught her daughter by the arm, leaning down and kissing her in the dying light.

"Ahhh summer love," she said, reminiscing.


	20. Chapter 20

Further delays at Gringotts bank.

Witches and Wizards alike are being asked to 'please be patient' as investigations into last Thursday's Gringotts break in continues. Spokes person for the Auror Department today gave a statement regarding the estimated time for the investigations finish.

"We don't know exactly how long our investigations will take, it could be days or weeks. Our priority is to first ensure the safety of the public before Gringotts can re-open."

It is believed to be the quick actions of the Auror department which saved so many lives, with the attack resulting in only minor injuries. Aurors and specially trained volunteers were quick to the scene of attack, evacuating and protecting the many unsuspecting shoppers. For further details on the attack turn to page 13.

Harry Potter threw the copy of the evening prophet into the coffee table as he leaned back into the comfortable couch with a sigh. It slid off and fell open to the front page that bore the headline, "Havoc at the Ministry. Floo networks down."

Harry relaxed into the comfortable cushions, rubbing his eyes under his glasses as he thought back over the last week. Thankfully no body had been hurt last Thursday when Death Eaters raided Gringotts bank, wrecking havoc, terrifying people and Goblins alike. Since then Aurors had been investigation round the clock, trying to figure out why this had happened and searching the many underground passageways, fearful of Death Eaters still lurking.

But that had not been the worst of it. Almost a week later many more Death Eaters had made their way straight into the Ministry of Magic, destroying The Magical Fountain of Brethren and wrecking havoc in the atrium, however the majority of them headed straight to level 6 for the Department of Magical Transportation. They left as quickly as they had entered, however leaving the Floo net-work cursed, anybody who tried to use it was quickly thrown violently back out, causing many injuries to unsuspecting Wizards.

It was over so quickly that the Auror Department and the order weren't even aware of what was happening until they had left, yet curiously no body had been seriously hurt or killed. Sirius seemed to agree with the rest of the order that it probably wasn't the aim of the attack, but no body seemed to know what it was.

Suddenly Harry was pulled from his reservoir by a loud insistent tapping on the back patio doors. He jumped up in fright, but relaxed when he saw Hedwig hovering outside. Harry quickly walked over to open the French doors, an she flew in with a loud hoot, fluttering around before setting on Harry's shoulder.

"Hey girl," he said affectionately, petting her feathers before untying the scroll attached to her foot. He smiled as he recognized the neat handwriting as Hermione's.

Dear Harry,

How are things going with Sirius? I hope you two are enjoying your time together. And speaking of time together, congratulations on making up with Ginny. Ronald told me in his last letter of how he caught you two snogging and he seemed quite shocked, but pleased none the less.

Isn't it horrible about those two attacks! I can't fully understand why Voldemort might attack Gringotts, more about that next time we see each other. Have you been keeping up with some light revision? "What?" Harry said aloud in dismay. Like I said before don't fall behind, you'll regret it later!

Are you excited about your upcoming birthday? Three days away now! I think I'm more excited than you are. Has Ronald told you yet that I'll be visiting for your birthday? I told him a week ago so he better not have forgotten.

Enjoy your time with Sirius, and write back quickly.

Love Hermione.

Harry smiled as he finished her letter, Ron hadn't told him Hermione was coming, and he was now very much looking forward to it. He felt Hedwig nibble at his ear so he let her back outside, as he skimmed through it again. Grinning he remembered how Ron had found he and Ginny in a * hem * close embrace by the Weasley's small stream the other day. He recalled how soft and smooth her back had been under his hands that day, and wished they had been able to find another moment alone together.

"Hey,"

Harry looked up as Sirius entered the kitchen holding two bags laden with groceries from the Muggle supermarket.

"Hey," Harry said as Sirius lifted the bags on the counter. Leaning over to look at them he said, "What did you get?"

"Not much really. They didn't have much, not even pumpkin juice," replied Sirius as he took some items out and put them in the pantry.

"I had to get umm," he paused as he looked at a bottle of dark liquid he had bought. "Coca-Cola. Dunno what that is."

Laughing Harry helped him unload the bags as he asked, "So when will Diagon Alley properly open again?"

"Most likely the brick wall will open to public tomorrow, but the stores depend on the owners. Fred and George are waiting a few more days for the press to die down a bit."

"Well maybe then we can get your beloved pumpkin juice. Any trouble with the Muggle money today?"

"Nah," Sirius said, reddening slightly. "Just gave the girl a 50 I think."

Harry smiled, but said nothing more about Sirius' severe trouble with Muggle money.

"Hey guess what Arthur said he can get for us?"

"What?" Harry said curiously as he poured himself a glass of water from the kitchen sink.

"One of those Muggle telephones! He said there was even a special spot to put it," Sirius said pointing to a hole in the kitchen wall where a phone line would normally be plugged in.

Harry nodded at this with a smirk, knowing that it was something only Mr Weasley would suggest.

"Hey speaking of Weasleys, when are Bill and Fluer coming back from their honeymoon?" Harry asked.

"Don't know really," Sirius said as he lifted himself to sit on the kitchen bench. "They're visiting some of Fluer's family throughout France, so I suppose they'll be a few more weeks."

"Does Bill know about Gringotts?"

"Probably not. Then again I suppose Molly would have told him when he wrote the other week."

"Yeah, I can just imagine Bill freaking out about it."

"Yes he'd probably come straight back knowing Bill," Sirius said as he slid off the bench. "I'm just going to headquarters for a few minutes, gotta talk to Kingsley," he said as he headed for his bedroom.

Harry nodded as Sirius walked past him, but called out to him when inspiration suddenly struck.

"Hey."

Sirius stopped in his tracks and twisted round to see him.

"Yeah?"

Harry smiled a little nervously, and leaned against the kitchen counter wondering why he was asking this now.

"Do you think maybe, perhaps after my birthday, could we visit my parent's house?"

Sirius froze a little, his face turning expressionless. Harry had hoped he wouldn't be against the idea of visiting his parent's house, yet he knew that it must have held many memories for his Godfather.

"We don't have to," Harry said quickly. "I just thought since I'm going to inherit it legally in a few days," he continued, trailing off slightly.

Sirius seemed to think to himself for a minute, steeling himself for an answer.

"Sure," he said quietly smiling a little, however the smile could not quite reach his eyes. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Yeah it umm, it could be good for us," he said, his voice considerably stronger than last time.

"OK," Harry said a little breathlessly as he began to feel light-headed. "Thanks."

Sirius nodded, smiling it little bit more for Harry's sake as he turned away to put his jacket away in his room.

Harry leaned against the bench fully, clenching his eyes shut as he felt a wave of dizziness overcome him. He let out a slow deep breath as he tried to steady himself.

"Master," somebody said nervously as they knelt before him, kissing the hem of his robes.

Harry gasped in shock as an unfamiliar scene flashed before his eyes. Sirius returned to the living area and began making his way to the front when he saw him.

"You alright?"

Harry tried desperately to open his eyes and respond, realizing what was happening, but groaned when the scene came before his eyes again.

"Everything is ready. We only await your instructions and we can provide you with what you want."

"I'm afraid there has been a change of plans Snape," the cold voice said lowly.

"Harry?" Sirius said urgently in the back of his mind as he gripped Harry's upper arms to hold him steady. "Is it him Harry?"

"Yes master?"

Harry moved from the fireplace that he was standing in front of as he continued talking.

"A small detail has arisen which I am sure we can make use of."

"Harry you have to block him!" he heard Sirius say somewhere in the distance.

"Clear your mind!" he said again desperately shaking him.

"Go and find our friend at the ministry. Bring him to me."

He realized his scar was burning painfully, he clapped his hand to it as he clenched his teeth together. It was too much, he couldn't handle it, he didn't know how, he couldn't think.

"Yes master."

Harry yelled in pain and felt his knees buckle. Sirius' heart pounded as held his writhing Godson, not knowing what to do. He puled out his wand, hoping to Merlin that this would not make things worse.

"STUPEFY!"

There was a flash of red light before Harry lay unmoving on the kitchen floor.


	21. Chapter 21

Sunlight streamed through the open window of the upstairs bedroom, slowly waking the person sleeping there. Harry Potter rolled over onto his side facing away from the window in hopes of a few more minutes shut eye. He breathed in deeply as his mind fully woke up, relenting he opened his eyes to the bright morning light, with sudden realization.

It's my birthday.

Harry sighed as he rolled over again onto his back, trying to find a more comfortable position. He frowned as he thought about the day ahead. He was now 17, but he didn't feel any older. He sat up a little in his bed, looking around the blurred room for some sign that things had changed, but they hadn't, it was just like any other day. Harry slumped back down into the pillows, laying his arm across his eyes in attempt to block out the sunlight.

He knew he probably should get up, that Sirius was probably bouncing around the house with excitement like he had been the last day or so. Still it beat him watching every move he took as he had been after what had happened the other day. Harry let out a small sigh at the thought of what had happened.

Thankfully when Sirius had stunned him, his visions had immediately stopped, blocking Voldemort from his mind. When he had regained consciousness Sirius had wasted no time in dragging him straight to headquarters, questioning him all the way. A meeting was quickly called for anyone who could come. It was easy to tell there had been many new additions to the order since Dumbledore's death, from what Harry could see before he was sent out the kitchen was packed. It was needless to say that the order was looking into finding someone to train him again in occlumency.

Harry took his arm away from his face, staring at the blurred ceiling when he heard a small knock on his door. He looked up as it clicked open, revealing a red headed someone.

"Morning," he grunted, cracking a smile. Ginny grinned mischievously.

"Good morning!" she said as she slipped through the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

"How did you get here?" Harry said as she quickly made her way over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

"Dad apparated me over so I could be the first to wish you happy birthday," she said as she leaned down kissing him gently.

She smiled at him as she broke the kiss.

"Happy birthday Harry."

He smiled as he ran his fingers through her hair. "Thanks."

She leaned down to kiss him again, but he turned his head cheekily.

"What?" Ginny said laughing as she kissed his cheek accidentally.

"You don't wanna kiss me," he said as he rubbed his eyes. "I probably have morning breath."

"Let me be the judge of that," Ginny said as she turned his face back to hers, kissing him deeply. He moaned in content as he ran his fingers through her soft hair once again, kissing her back fully.

Harry's arm crept quickly around Ginny's back as he swiftly pulled her under the covers with him amongst arms, legs and laughter. He smiled devilishly as he pulled the doona over their heads blocking out the sunlight, while she tugged on his shirt to bring him closer to her. He placed his hand gently on her neck as she put her hand on his head, pulling him down to kiss her again.

God she smells good, he thought to himself as he moved downwards to kiss her jaw line.

He trailed his hand down her side as he whispered in her ear.

"What is that perfume you wear?"

Ginny smiled as his touch sent shivers down her spine, and tried to formulate words.

"Uh…dunno…floral something."

He pressed small feather like kisses down her face, saying in between,

"Never…take…it…off."

"You like it?" she said before he kissed her again. Sinking deeply into his kiss she wrapped her arm around his back, pulling him closer again.

"Yup," he muttered quickly kissing her again.

He could feel her body pressed closely against his own, as the hand that had been resting on her hip hesitantly slipped underneath her shirt. He rubbed his thumb against her soft skin as he waited for her reaction. She moaned softly and placed her hand on the top of his shoulder, as though urging him to keep going. Relaxing slightly he moved his hand further under and began running it back and forth, as though trying to memorize the texture.

Ginny shivered in delight as he began tracing patterns on her belly, tingles spreading through her at an alarming rate. Breaking their passionate kiss she tilted her head sideways and began to gently kiss his neck, running her teeth gently along it. Harry's fingers paused their work momentarily as she began this, but quickly leapt back into action once again. He tilted his head the opposite way to allow her more access as she began sucking lightly on one spot, but suddenly pulled away at the sound of footsteps. He twisted and pulled the covers from over their heads, looking at the door as he heard the unmistakable sound of somebody ascending the stairs. He turned back to Ginny who swore under her breath as she began laughing softly.

Cursing also, Harry reluctantly rolled off her and she quickly leapt out of the bed, pulling her shirt ferociously back down to its original place, trying to fix her hair. Harry sat up, his hands fumbling for his glasses on the table next to his bed, he put them on just in time as Sirius knocked loudly on his door and opened it.

"Morning," he said cheerfully, a large grin plastered on his face. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," Harry said, slightly breathlessly as he smiled somewhat guiltily.

Sirius frowned comically as he surveyed the two, breathless and flushed. He sniggered as he realized what they had been up to.

"Breakfast is ready," he said grinning knowingly. "If you two are, that is."

He shut the door behind him but they could still hear him trying to still his laughter as he walked down the stairs. Harry looked at Ginny, whose face was flushed and began laughing softly. Immediately she turned to him and scolded him like a mother would a child.

"Stop it!"

He kept laughing as he stood up and looked down at her, almost hungrily. Seeing his expression she too laughed.

"That was…" he began before pecking her on the lips.

"Humiliating on so many levels," she finished for him, smiling stupidly.

He laughed loudly and she rested her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I was going to say a 'nice way to wake a guy up."

She smiled and slipped her arms around his middle, looking up at him she replied,

"Then I guess I'll have to do it again sometime."

"Oh Harry dear!" Mrs Weasley said as he, Sirius and Ginny entered the burrow. "Happy birthday!"

She strolled over, wiping her wet hands on her flowery apron before hugging him tightly, beaming.

"Thanks," he replied as they pulled apart.

She beamed again and nodded at him, then quickly ushered the three of them to sit down at the dining room table.

"I'm just about to serve lunch," she said as she flicked he wand at the magical oven, levitating a deep baking dish from inside it.

"Shepherd's pie," she said happily. "How's your day treating you dear."

"Good," Harry said, also beginning to beam. He looked around at Sirius. "Sirius has taken care of that," he continued, thinking about the quidditch gloves, clothing, a new pocketknife to replace the one that broke in fifth year and a year subscription to his favorite quidditch magazine.

"That's my job," he replied as the baking dish laden with hot pie positioned itself on a cooling tray on the table. Mrs Weasley beamed at him also as she herself sat down, waving her wand so that everybody was immediately served with large portions of pie. Harry took a bite, marveling at the taste before asking.

"Where is everybody? It's so quiet here."

"Well," Mrs Weasley replied. "Arthur's been called into work, but promised he'll be back this afternoon, the twins are doing some thing at they shop, they'll be around also. And Ronald is upstairs still."

"Still?" Ginny said in dismay. "That's bad even for him."

Mrs Weasley nodded her head in deep thought. "Well I did say he could lie in until you three got here. Ginny darling go and get him up would you please."

Ginny put down her knife and fork and made her way up the stairs, heading for the topmost floor.

Mrs Weasley looked back up at Harry, smiling once again.

"Hermione should be arriving any minute now. She said around lunchtime. Also Remus and Tonks will be coming over for dinner tonight."

"Really?" Harry said smiling at this.

Sirius nodded in reply. "You know they went on their first proper date the other week."

Harry opened his eyes wide, he knew that Remus planned on taking her out but not that he actually did.

"Sirius," Mrs Weasley said, facing him. Sirius looked over at her as she muttered something Harry could not understand. Sirius seemed to consider something for a moment.

"Yeah why not. Tell him."

Mrs Weasley turned to him smiling. "It's supposed to be more of a surprise, but we'll tell you anyway. Hagrid's coming tonight!"

"Really?" Harry replied leaning forward slightly. "No way."

Mrs Weasley nodded enthusiastically as she scooped some of the pie onto her fork.

"What time will he be here?"

"Everyone's coming for dinner so around seven."

"Ooh what's for dinner?" Harry said turning to Sirius.

"I don't know," he said looking at him stumped. "Sure it will be good."

"And you," Mrs Weasley said to Harry, who noted her sudden sternness and the way she waved her empty fork at him. "You are banned from the kitchen."

"Why?" Harry said in wonder, immediately wondering if he had done something wrong.

"Because you'll see something your not supposed to."

He looked back at Sirius, slightly confused.

"Cake or something," he explained as Ginny came thumping back down the stairs.

"He won't get up," she said simply as she sat herself back down. "He has a feeling," she said in a mocking tone.

"What?" Mrs Weasley replied sharply.

"He won't get out of bed. He refused."

Huffing slightly Mrs Weasley made to put down her knife and fork before Harry stopped her.

"I'll get him up," he said standing.

"You sure dear?"

"Yeah," he said rounding the table. "Need to take advantage of no more restrictions don't I?"

He smiled at Ginny and quickly made his way up the uneven staircase that zigzagged through the house. He reached the fifth landing and quietly knocked on Ron's slightly ajar door.

He poked his head into the room to see Ron still lying in bed. He sighed and stepped over a packet of exploding snap cards, and as he pulled the orange curtains back as he said,

"So, you have a feeling?"

He turned back around to Ron looking at him skeptically. What he would normally have taken for a large lump in the bed raised its head slightly.

"I have a feeling," his friend confirmed.

"Ok," he said. "What kind of feeling?"

Ron slumped back into the pillows, staring at the opposite wall.

"Like I might die."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the lump on the bed. A little frustrated he continued.

"Today? Tomorrow? In fifty years? Because we're all going to die one day Ron," he said looking at him skeptically. "Now my lunch is cold!" he said on a lighter note. "Lets go."

"Harry!" Ron said to him, raising himself up again.

He could now see Ron's face clearly, and he looked slightly worried. Sighing Harry sat down on the edge of his bright orange bed.

"OK I'm totally supportive. Shoot."

Ron looked at him, slightly apprehensive before sitting up properly and explaining.

"It's everything. It's the whole world and everything in it!" Ron said in dismay.

"I mean seriously. Things aren't really going all that peachy. Now that Dumbledore's kicked the bucket what are we supposed to do?"

Harry frowned at this unceremonious reference to their headmaster's death, but said nothing as his friend continued.

"What happens next? What's happening to stop you know who now that we don't have Dumbledore? I mean Death Eaters could swoop down at us any minute. Having Dumbledore around made things so much clearer." Ron slumped dramatically back down into his pillow and paused before continuing comically.

"Plus Errol finally died the other day and I think I might be coming down with something. I just-I need for something to happen! I need some sign that things are going to be alright."

He looked at Harry meaningfully, who had kept his expression mostly quite blank throughout his speech.

"So until then," Ron continued, now looking up at the ceiling. "I'm going to lie here and feel like I might die today."

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, thinking hard. He had promised himself previously that he would not let Voldemort bother him on his birthday, and he intended to keep that promise. He stood up and said mockingly,

"Who the hell are you? Trelawney? What ever." He swiftly pulled the Chudley Cannons bedspread off his best friend before he could protest, and stepped up onto the bed.

"Everybody has problems. Now get your arse out of bed and wish me happy birthday!"

"Hey! I'm being serious!" Ron protested as he reached towards the ground for his blanket.

"So am I! You're doing what I do! Taking one little twinge and turning it into the end of the world!" he said as he poked at Ron's back with his foot. Grumbling and muttering under his breath Ron slid off his bed and stood up gingerly.

"Ugh. You look like crap," Harry said laughing, as he stepped down from the bed, the bedsprings creaking as he did.

"Sod off," Ron said as he made to pick up the blanket and go back to bed.

"Uh uh uh," Harry said as he pulled out his wand and twirled it cheekily between his fingers. Ron glared at him and muttered something that sounded like,

"Was getting up anyway…"

Harry laughed as he followed his friend as he made his way down the rickety staircase towards the fourth floor bathroom.

"I'm telling you mate, I have a feeling." Ron said looking over his shoulder at Harry.

"Yeah yeah yeah and Snape's my best buddy."

Ron rolled his eyes as he opened the door to the bathroom.

"Happy birthday," he said before shutting the door with a click.

"Thanks," Harry muttered to the air in reply as he continued down the stairs.

"Ginny," Hermione whispered in her ear. "Your mum says it's time."

Ginny looked up at Hermione from her place on the lounge room floor and nodded at her with a wink. Hermione smiled and went back into the kitchen where she was helping Mrs Weasley after dinner. Ginny smirked as she popped the last piece of her strawberry into her mouth and stood up, sauntering over to the back of the couch where her boyfriend sat.

She leaned down, putting her hands on his shoulders, whispering secretly in his ear.

"Let's go outside."

Harry took his eyes from the viscous chess game between Fred and Ron, and looked at her curiously.

"Come on," she whispered insistently. Harry smiled and stood up, taking her outstretched hand in his. They smiled at each other as they passed Sirius, Remus and Hagrid at the dining room table, and left through the back door.

Mrs Weasley, Tonks and Hermione watched from the kitchen window as they pretended to clear up from the dinner celebrations.

"Do you think they've gone far enough?" Tonks said, looking sideways out the window as the couple disappeared from sight around the chicken coop, far in the backyard.

"Just as long as they don't go any farther," Mrs Weasley said sternly. "Right ladies lets go," she continued as she hung her apron on a hook behind the door.

Hermione grinned, feeling rebellious as she rounded up everybody else who had come to celebrate Harry's birthday.

"Right," Mrs Weasley said when everybody was listening.

"Ron and Hermione," she said pointing at them. "Bring down the presents."

They nodded and headed upstairs together, to find the well-hidden presents.

"Remus and Tonks, clear the dining room table completely for me please."

Tonks, whose hair was now long and bright orange, set to work with Remus, bringing the remainders of the cups and butterbeer bottles into the kitchen.

"Sirius and Hagrid,"she said looking pointedly at them. "Can you find the sign I hid in the hallway cupboard and hang it up above the table?"

"Rightio," Hagrid said gruffly as he stood up and followed Sirius' lead.

"Uhhh Fred and George."

"Yes mother?" they said simultaneously from the living room floor.

"Put some candles on the cake, and get it ready to light when they come back in."

"Sure thing mother," they said again simultaneously. George looked at his brother and winked as they stood and headed into the kitchen, whispering to each other.

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips, thinking of a job her husband could do.

"Arthur, keep a look out, make sure they don't come back until we give the signal."

"Yes dear," he said and sat back down at the dining room table, leaning his chair back so that he could see clearly out the window.

"And I'll get the decorations," she muttered to herself, and she began bustling around in the broom cupboard near the front door.

"Ginny where are we going?" Harry said curiously as she led him past the chicken enclosure. They we suddenly surrounded in darkness as they came behind the enclosure, the light from the house now not reaching them. He gave a small gasp of surprise as he felt Ginny suddenly turn and place her hands on his face, kissing him deeply. He stiffened in surprise at first, but quickly sank into their passionate kiss, placing his hands on her waist, pulling her closer as he closed his eyes.

He smiled into their kiss as he felt her trailing her hand down his arm until she reached the hand that was resting on her waist.

"Why don't we pick up where we left off?" she muttered, breaking their kiss slightly as she slipped his hand under her shirt, encouraging him. It was all the encouragement her needed, he slipped his hand further underneath, rubbing it along the soft skin.

"Less talking...more kissing," he muttered with a smile as his fingertips brushed the bottom of her ribcage, the highest that he dared go. She took this statement to heart as she continued kissing him, slowing their speed down a little so that it no longer seemed rushed. Feeling daring, he gently ran the tip of his tongue across her lips, his heart pounding as she deepened their kiss again, touching the tip of her own tongue to his hesitantly. Harry groaned softly as he twisted his head, in order to kiss her more fully. She kissed him back deeply as she slipped her hand around his back, venturing underneath his shirt aswell.

Harry shivered in delight as she ran her fingernails along the small of his back, sending sensations throughout his body. He pressed her up against him more closely, ignoring the sounds of the clucking hens close by. Ginny moved her hand further up his back, exposing his skin to the crisp night air. She slid her spare hand down his firm chest, and rubbed the exposed skin on his stomach, making him moan involuntarily. She smiled satisfactorily at the effect she had on him, and continued exploring his skin, as he explored hers.

Suddenly they broke apart as Ginny stepped back with a squeal, jumping from one foot to the other, laughing.

"What?" Harry said, slightly annoyed.

She looked at him, grinning stupidly. "Something just crawled across my foot!"

"What?"

"I don't know!" she said, looking down at the ground near her. He laughed at her and took her hand.

"Come on," he said leading her around the coop back into the light that shone from the house. "We better go back inside."

"No!" Ginny blurted out. She knew what was going on in there and she refused to be the one to spoil it. Hermione had not given the signal yet and she had no idea of knowing if they were ready.

"Let's stay out here," she said as she lay down on the grass, pulling him down with her.

Thankfully he laid down next to her as she moved closer to him, he put his arm around her shoulder as they looked up at the night sky which shone with stars.

They lay in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Harry asked,

"Do you know any of these constellations?"

Ginny looked closer, trying to recognize some.

"No, what are they?"

Harry scoffed at this. "I was sort of hoping you could tell me."

She laughed and slapped her hand on his stomach, rolling over to rest her head on his chest. She smiled as she heard his faint heartbeat.

"So what other plans do you have for this summer?" she asked.

"I dunno really," he said. "I've asked Sirius if he would take me to visit Godric's Hollow later this summer and he said he would."

"Wow," she said. "Won't that be a bit strange though?"

"Probably. But legally it's mine now so I guess I should see it."

"I suppose," she said as she fiddled with the material of his shirt.

He looked down at her affectionately, and moved the hand embracing her to her hair, playing with the fine strands.

"Sorry I'm such a git sometimes," he said, referring to him breaking up with her.

"Hmmm you're forgiven, we all have our 'Gitish' moments."

He smiled at this, before she continued.

"And in that case, I'm sorry I called you a jackass."

Harry looked down at her in shock.

"You called me a jackass?"

"Yeah," Ginny admitted guiltily. "More than once."

Harry opened his mouth in shock, sitting up a little. "You called me a jackass?"

"Only a few times."

"A few times?" Harry said in mock dismay. "You'll have to pay for that."

He leaned over her quickly and began kissing her face and neck as she laughed loudly.

"Harry!" she said laughing.

"What?" he said mockingly as he continued kissing her. "You have to pay!"

"OI! You two!"

Harry sprang off Ginny at the sound of Hermione's voice. Trying to stifle his laughter he turned around to look at her. She was standing in the doorway, some thirty feet away looking cross.

"Get back in here now!" she said sternly as she turned away, shutting the door with a bang.

He turned back to Ginny, who like he, was feeling slightly breathless.

"Caught twice in one day!" he said in dismay. "What are the chances?"

Ginny chuckled and stood up, pulling him up with her.

"Well I guess we'll have to work on that then," she said as they quickly walked back towards the house, straightening their clothing.

"Sounds good to me."

Ginny smiled at him as they reached the wooden door that led into the Burrow. She placed a small kiss on his lips.

"Happy birthday."

"You said that before," Harry said cheekily.

"I know," she said as she placed her hand on the doorknob, pushing the door open.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Harry recoiled in shock as everybody jumped out at him, yelling and cheering. His jaw dropped open as the twins grabbed him by the shoulders roughly, pulling him inside amidst laughter and cheers. Harry laughed himself as they pushed him down into a chair, somebody placing a party hat on his head.

"You guys are awful!" he said with a grin as the Weasley's camera went off with a puff of smoke.

"You didn't thing you could get away with just dinner did you?" Ron said loudly as everybody calmed down.

"Presents!" Ginny said loudly as everybody scrambled to give him theirs first. Harry smiled as he looked around, taking note of the balloons bouncing merrily around which changed color, to the 'Happy Birthday' sign that played the birthday song.

"Here here here!" the twins said, brandishing a brightly wrapped gift box infront of him.

Harry took the box, shaking it a little. He looked up smiling as he pulled the paper off.

"No way!" Ron said as Harry opened the box, pulling out smaller boxes of Skiving Snackboxes, a trick wand, and various new items, which the twins said, were still being tested.

"They're very safe though," George said as Harry pulled out a wizarding version of the Muggle whoopee cushion.

"Thanks guys," Harry said genuinely as he was handed his next present, which was from Hagrid.

Hagrid gave Harry the largest slab of Honeydukes chocolate he had ever seen, Ron gave him the newest edition of 'Quidditch through the Ages." Hermione gave him a new leather wallet he desperately needed, and Mr and Mrs Weasley gave him a tin of home made fudge and a new watch, which he clipped onto his wrist straight away.

"Thanks," Harry said, kissing Ginny on the cheek as he opened her gift, a new broomstick service kit, specially designed for his firebolt.

"Your welcome," she said grinning.

"Next one's from Remus and Tonks," Hagrid said happily. "It's a gooden."

"Come on girls," Mrs Weasley whispered to every one. "Kitchen."

Tonks, Hermione and Ginny quickly followed Mrs Weasley into the kitchen as everybody else vanished the moved all the wrapping paper, talking animatedly.

"Alright ladies. Pucker up." Tonks said, pulling a bright red lipstick out of her pocket, as Mrs Weasley set about lighting the seventeen candles that Fred and George had put on Harry's cake.

"Do you think he'll like it?" Tonks said nervously as she applied the lipstick to Ginny's lips.

"Of course he will. You make wonderful cakes," Mrs Weasley said as she light the remaining candles with her wand.

"Yeah Tonks the cake maker," Ginny said smacking her lips together. "Who would have thought it?"

"Ha ha ha," Tonks replied with a smile, applying the lipstick to Hermione. Mrs Weasley turned around, holding the glowing cake in her hands.

"Ginny you take some plates, Hermione some spoons and a large knife please dear," she mumbled as Tonks applied the lipstick to her mouth.

"Right girls. Let's go," Tonks said happily, as she put her lipstick back into her pocket, smacking her own lips together.

They walked slowly back into the living room as Tonks dimmed the candles. Mrs Weasley opened her mouth and began singing, as everybody else followed suit.

"Happy birthday to you!"

Harry looked up at them, grinning as the four women swarmed on him. Mrs Weasley placed the glowing cake down infront of him, then planted a large kiss on his cheek as the rest followed suit, leaving bright red marks on his face.

"Happy birthday to you!"

He smiled again as Ginny kissed him gently on the lips, Hagrid's voice booming above the rest.

"Happy birthday dear Harry!"

Harry looked down at the large cake, decorated greatly with chocolate icing and white words that he could not read through the candles on the top.

"Happy birthday to you!" they finished singing, and everybody fell silent as Mr Weasley clicked the camera happily.

"Blow out the candles!" Ron said loudly. Still smiling, Harry took a deep breath and blew. Everyone fell silent, muttering to each other as he blew the candles out.

"Did you make a wish?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, yeah," Harry lied, having never believed in that.

"You missed one Harry," Mr Weasley said, still holding the camera. Harry looked back down curiously at the one candle still burning. He blew it out as Hermione handed him the knife so that he could cut the cake. He placed the tip of the knife in the center, cutting down in between the candles which were still smoking, sending twirling patterns of smoke into the air.

He jumped a little as a candle re-lit it's self and began burning once again. Looking up he said,

"Wha-"

"Trick candles!" the twins said loudly. "We stole the Muggle idea!"

"Part of our new party pack," Fred continued as everybody laughed, he leaned over and tapped the trick candle, extinguishing it properly.

Harry smiled and pulled the knife still sitting in the cake out.

"Alright who's first?" he said slicing the cake again.

"Atleast let me take the rubbish out Mrs Weasley," Harry begged, later that evening.

Mrs Weasley looked at him, frowning as a furious battle raged in her mind.

"Alright, but that's all! It's your birthday," she said sternly.

"OK," Harry said, quickly picking up the bag full of wrapping paper and heading out into the dark backyard. It had not felt right letting everyone else clean up while he did nothing, 'birthday boy' or not. He smiled with happiness at the way his birthday had turned out. He didn't want a major party or anything, dinner with the Weasleys and a few others was all.

Harry grinned, he was happy that Hagrid had come, he had spent a long time telling everyone about the new batch of Blast-Ended Skrewts he had gotten.

Harry reached the large bin, which held the Weasley's paper rubbish that Mr Weasley would take down the village to recycle. He had recently been through the phase of Muggle recycling and this was the result. Harry threw the bag full of wrapping paper in the bin and shut the lid, rubbing his hands together to warm them against the unnaturally cool summers night.

He turned around and headed back to the Burrow, tempted to skip a little. He slowed down a little near the kitchen window, enjoying the peace and quiet for a few moments as he heard someone in the kitchen speak.

"MadEye thinks Voldemort is warning us, taunting us, like saying there's something else he's got planned."

Harry stopped just short of the window, listening as someone else continued.

"Come on Remus you know MadEye. He's brilliant but he just- he's paranoid."

"I know he is, but think about it Sirius. Why would Voldemort attack Gringotts and kill nobody? And why would he attack the ministry of all places, and not kill a single person?"

Harry knelt down, concealing himself in the dark as he listened intently.

"I suppose, but why Remus?"

"Well I agree with MadEye. I think he's either trying to scare us, or distract us, probably both."

"What do mean though?" Sirius said feeling frustrated.

"The investigations are going to take days, weeks maybe. They're pulling people from all over the Auror office to help investigate, and now would be the key time to initiate some kind of attack. MadEye thinks he's eventually going to have us going in circles more than we are now."

"So you think he's planning something. Something soon?"

"I don't know Sirius, it was just MadEye's ramblings, but everyone else there seemed to agree with him. And about Harry."

Harry's ears seemed to perk up as his name was mentioned. He strained his ears harder, and he ignored the aching feeling in his knees.

Sirius seemed to sigh, he didn't quite know what to do about this particular subject. He leaned against the bench as he said,

"Remus I dunno…he's enjoying himself so much just being normal. I don't wanna take that away."

"It won't take it away Padfoot."

"I know but, you wouldn't want the Order to guard you all the time like a child would you Remus? And that's it, he's not a child, he knows how to defend himself."

"You know the Order isn't questioning what he can and can't do, it's just with Dumbledore gone he's a lot more vulnerable to a direct attack from Voldemort."

"Yeah I know," Sirius replied, his voice trailing off.

"Look Moony I just don't know. Maybe I'll talk to him about it, see what he thinks, it's about time he had a say in this type of thing."

They fell silent as they bustled around in the kitchen for a few moments. Remus swore under his breath.

"Which candle was the trick one?"

"I don't know, lost track. Just re-light them I suppose."

Harry let out a breath, they had obviously dropped the subject. Trying hard to be quiet he crawled out from his spot from the window.

So the order wanted to start tailing him again did they? Thank Merlin Sirius seemed to be against it, he'd never be able to look for any horcruxes with them tailing him. He entered back through the back door, making himself forget about the conversation he had just listened to. For a little while atleast, he still had 3 hours left of his birthday to enjoy.


	22. Chapter 22

"So I was thinking," said Sirius as he passed his godson a bottle of butterbeer. "That after you take your Apparation test, we could visit your parents' house."

Harry looked up at him from his place on the couch, staring into his electric blue eyes.

"Uh yeah. That sounds alright," he replied, relieved that Sirius seemed a little more inclined towards this particular subject.

"OK," he said. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," Harry replied rolling his eyes as Sirius made his way to bed.

"Thanks for today," he said quickly, turning around on the couch to look at Sirius.

He stopped in his tracks, smiling at him affectionately.

"No probs. Night mate," he said, turning away again as he walked to his room.

"Night," Harry said absentmindedly, leaning back into the comfortable couch as he expertly flicked the cap off the bottle.

He stifled a yawn as he took a small sip, his eyes wandering the room to the gifts that sat on the kitchen bench, to the evening mist he could see outside the French doors leading to the patio. He closed his tired eyes as he thought back over the conversation he had heard earlier.

When he was kicked out of the order meeting the other day, he knew they would be talking about him, but he didn't think that they would be discussing whether or not to begin tailing him again. Thank Merlin Sirius seemed to be against it, how on earth was he supposed to look for Voldemort's horcruxes if the Order was following him, nosing into his business.

He stifled another yawn, finally realizing how tired he was. He took another sip of butterbeer and placed it on the coffee table, forcing himself to stand up. Screwing his eyes up momentarily he rounded the lounge and went to the kitchen bench. He piled his gifts up in his arms and began making his way towards the staircase.

Harry swore as his pocketknife that he had placed on top of the piled fell off with a small thud. He left it there and climbed the staircase. He nudged his bedroom door open with his shoulder and entered as the new wallet Hermione had given him also fell to the floor. Sighing he dumped his gifts on his bed, flicking his wand at the wallet, sending it soaring to the bed also.

He tossed his wand onto his bed and quickly made his way back downstairs to retrieve the pocketknife he had dropped, his feet making soft footsteps on the wooden floor. He entered the living area and picked up the knife he had dropped, flicking it open. The metal felt cool against his hand, the blade sharp as he gently ran his thumb across the edge. He leaned casually against the kitchen bench as he looked properly at the knife Sirius had given him, observing for the first proper time the dark polished wood that made up the handle. He smiled again at the way his birthday had passed, he hadn't wanted anything big, and what he got was perfect. However, he got the feeling that the Weasleys' old camera would never recover from the many photographs that were taken.

Suddenly Harry was pulled from his thoughts as the new telephone on the kitchen bench rang shrilly. Harry jumped what seemed to be a mile in the air, swearing as he cut his thumb on the blade. His eyes jumped to the telephone that Mrs. Weasley had installed only a few days ago, its green light blinking ominously as it rang again, the sound piercing through the quietness.

Harry leaned across the kitchen bench, reaching for the portable handset as quickly as he could, not wanting to disturb Sirius.

"Hello?" he said quickly.

Harry frowned as he heard heavy breathing down the line.

"Hello?" he said insistently.

He was about to hang up, when the caller answered. "Hello."

Harry frowned again at the voice; he recognized it from somewhere but couldn't place it.

"Yes?"

"Who is this?" the voice said, strangely showing little emotion.

"Who are you trying to reach?" Harry replied, remembering Mr. Weasley's long lecture about the safe use of Muggle telephones. 'Never give out your name,' he had said.

"What number is this?"

Groaning silently in frustration he replied impatiently, "What number are you trying to reach?"

"I don't know," they said slyly.

"Well I think you have the wrong number in that case," he replied, looking at the small smear of blood that appeared on his thumb.

"Do I," they said, not as a question but as a statement.

"Easy mistake," Harry replied as he walked quietly into the kitchen. "Take it easy."

Harry bought the phone down from his ear, placing it back into its holder as Sirius poked his head into the kitchen, already in his pajamas.

"Who was it at this hour?"

"No one," Harry said calmly as he turned on the kitchen tap, washing off the blood. "Just a prank call."

Sirius nodded and walked back into his bedroom, shutting the door with a click, one that seemed to echo through Harry's ears. He turned off the tap, satisfied that he was no longer bleeding, and made his way into the lounge room, picking up the butterbeer he had left on the table. He nearly dropped it in shock as the phone rang again, its cry cutting through the air.

He placed the butter beer hurriedly on the bench, sending it skidding as he leaned over again and picked up the telephone, stopping it mid ring.

"Hello?" he said again, feeling slightly frustrated.

"I'm sorry I guess I did dial the wrong number."

"Well why did you do it again?" Harry said dismayed.

"To apologize," they said again, once again showing almost no emotion.

"Well I forgive you. Bye now," said Harry, as he was about to hang up.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"I want to talk."

Harry sighed out loud, just wanting to get rid of them.

"It's past eleven. Call someone else." He swiftly hung up, annoyed that they had called in the first place. He picked the butterbeer up, taking another sip as he noticed the smear of blood on the label. Harry looked back down at his thumb, which would not relent in its bleeding. He rinsed the bottle and his thumb again as the phone rang again. Clenching his thumb and forefinger together, he picked up the phone again.

"Hello?"

"Why don't you want to talk to me?"

"Who is this?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"You tell me your name I'll tell you mine."

"I don't think so," he replied. "Look what do you want?"

"To talk."

"Well call someone else," replied Harry as he pulled his thumb and forefinger apart, observing the small cut which refused to stop bleeding.

"So are you going to tell me your name?" they said.

Harry sighed, annoyed at this question. "Why do you want to know my name?"

"Because I want to know who I'm looking at."

Harry stopped, looking up curiously. They can see me?

"What did you say?"

"I said I want to know who I'm…talking…to," they replied, suddenly menacing.

"That's not what you said," replied Harry as he walked swiftly around the kitchen bench towards the patio doors. He flicked on the Muggle light switch and the spacious back yard and patio was illuminated, he looked outside for some sign that somebody was there.

"Hello?" they inquired at his silence. Harry flicked off the light, walking to the window near the breakfast table, pulling across the curtains Mrs. Weasley had made for them.

"Look I gotta go."

"Do you know who this is?"

"I have no idea," Harry replied honestly, though getting sick of this.

"I think you had a good night tonight. Lipstick off yet?"

Harry stopped, smiling stupidly at this as relief flowed through him, realizing who it was.

"Fred and George, you gave yourselves away."

"Really?" they replied tonelessly.

"Are you calling from the Burrow because you know your dad will freak at the cost."

"That lipstick looked strange on you. Anyone would think you've been up to something."

Harry laughed, fully aware of what he and Ginny had been doing before all women at the party had planted him with kisses.

"Forge! That's so unoriginal, I'm disappointed in you," Harry replied lightly as he entered the kitchen and once again washed the blood off his fingers under the stream of water.

"Maybe that's because, I'm not Fred or George."

Harry faltered momentarily, becoming suddenly worried again.

"So-so who are you?"

"The question isn't who am I, it's where am I."

"So, where are you?" Harry replied, laughing a little.

"Your front porch," they replied slowly, as though tantalizing him.

"Why would you be calling from my front porch?" Harry asked quietly as he slowly walked through the archway that led from the kitchen into the dining room, looking outside the large windows onto the front porch.

"That's the original part."

He walked straight up to one of the windows in the small alcove, straining his eyes to see out of it into the darkness outside.

"Yeah?" Harry said, felling more confident he continued. "I think you bluff."

He turned and made his way to the front door, sliding the silver chain across and opening the deadlock. Leaving it unlocked, he stepped outside, shivering at the blast of cold that was so unnaturally present this summer. He pulled the door shut behind him with a click as he pressed the phone closer to his ear.

"So where are you?" he said coolly as he looked around.

"Right here," the person replied, almost drawling.

Harry looked around again, moving towards his right. He leant out over the old wooden railing of the front porch, looking down, looking left and right. The cool air pressed on him and he suppressed a shiver as he stepped back, walking swiftly along the length of the porch, poking his head around the corner.

"Can you see me right now?" he said as he walked back towards the front door, feeling strangely relieved.

"Ah-huh."

"Right. What am I doing?" he said, raising his middle finger in the air. "What am I doing?"

He turned on the spot, laughing at the way he had managed to scare himself.

"Nice try guys, but thanks for the present though," he said as he lowered his finger as he put his hand on the cold brass doorknob.

Suddenly the caller's demeanor changed completely, and suddenly became once again menacing.

"You take one move, and you'll be dead just like Diggory."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, there was no way Fred or George would say that.

"Do you want to die…Harry?" they snarled. "Cedric sure didn't."

His heart began pounding somewhere in his throat as anger and apprehension began pulsing through him.

"Alright you've had your fun so rack off already," he said coldly as he quickly pushed the door open and went back inside, locking it and sliding the chain across the holder.

"Don't hang up on me."

Fuming Harry pressed the button before forcefully pulling the curtains across the windows in the dining room, trying not to let his temper take hold. He stalked back into the kitchen, slamming the phone back into the holder. He twisted the tap on the kitchen sink and once again rinsed his hand, which was completely covered in smears of blood. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to keep control as blood and water quickly ran down the shining sink.

It could be any creep with a phone, he thought to himself through his anger. Anyone from the Wizarding world who had half a brain.

Harry's eyes snapped open as the telephone rang again, its shrill cry sending a brief shiver down his spine. He bit his lip slightly, seriously considering letting it ring into silence. He looked towards the hallway that led to Sirius' bedroom. Not wanting to wake him for something so trivial, he walked over and picked up the phone, forgetting all about keeping his temper.

"What?" he asked rudely, not caring at all about politeness.

"Why don't you want to talk to me Harry?" the anonymous caller spoke down the line, with patience that reminded him vividly of Luna.

"How do you know my name?" he said abruptly.

"I know a lot about you. I've known you since before you were born."

"Well since you know my name it's only fair I know yours," he relied, quickly growing frustrated again.

"But you do know it."

"Well refresh my memory," Harry said sarcastically.

"It doesn't need refreshing though."

Harry rolled his eyes, thoroughly sick of this situation.

"Stop calling this number," he said as he lowered the phone, reaching with his uninjured thumb to press the red button.

"Wait."

Harry sighed, just wanting finally to go to bed. He bought the phone back to his ear as they continued.

"How is your friend Ron?"

"What?" Harry said incredulously.

"He told you he was going to die, but you didn't believe him."

Harry's mind suddenly began reeling; his heart began pounding somewhere in his throat.

How could they know that? He thought to himself, as he tried to keep his head.

"So how is Ron?" they said again.

Harry clenched his eyes together as he said solidly,

"He fine, thanks for asking."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he replied forcefully through his sudden nervousness.

"Really? He didn't look so good the last time I saw him."

"Yeah?" Harry replied, his mind still reeling. "How would you know that?"

"Turn on the back patio light, again."

Immediately his eyes darted up towards the two doors that led onto the patio. He looked at them apprehensively before quickly making his way over to them. Holding the phone close to his ear, he again flicked on the switch next to the door, and looked out of them, squinting his eyes emerald against the bright light. He immediately felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, nausea and fear rising as he looked outside onto the grass.

"Shit! Ron," he said loudly to himself as he fumbled with the lock on the French doors, not taking his eyes off Ron. Ron looked up at him; his eyes wide open as he managed a strangled cry through the layers of masking tape that covered his mouth. He struggled furiously against the invisible bonds that held his arms and feet to the wooden deck chair as his orange hair stood out vividly.

Harry threw open the door and rushed outside as the voice drawled down the line, highly menacing,

"I wouldn't do that." Harry stopped mid step as they said this, pressing the phone close to his ear as he looked only at Ron.

"What?" he said desperately.

"Get back inside. Or he dies right now."

Ron looked at him, terror obvious on his face as a trickle of blood ran down his bruised face from his hairline. Harry took another hesitant step towards Ron, the wooden deck harsh against his bare feet.

"Get back inside now, or I kill him," they said forcefully.

Harry looked back down at Ron, breathing heavily, torn between what his instincts told him to do. Suddenly his legs began working, and he stepped backwards. Seeing this Ron began shaking his head, yelling through the tape over his mouth. Harry looked at him, trying to tell him he was sorry. He stepped back again and went back inside, as his heart pounded in his throat, his hands shaking horribly.

"Good. Shut the door and lock it."

"Please don't hurt him," Harry said desperately as he locked the door.

"Get out of sight and turn off the light," they replied, not answering his desperate request.

He took one last look at Ron, whose eyes were wide open as he struggled against his invisible bonds, still yelling through them. Harry flicked off the light as he stepped sideways, crouching down on his toes as he moved out if sight. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to think, tried to make sense of everything. This was no longer just a prank call.

"Good," the voice crooned, almost lovingly. "Here's what's going to happen."

"What?" he said quietly as he looked towards the hallway that led to Sirius' room. He had to wake him.

"You get to decide if your friend lives or dies. But don't even think about running to Black, he won't be able to hear you."

"What have you done to him?" Harry demanded as new fear stabbed through him.

"It's not him you need to worry about."

Harry drew in a shuddering breath as he tried to comprehend what was happening, tried to make sense of it all. "Please don't hurt them," he said, even though he knew it was no use.

"Are you ready?"

"What do you want?" he replied, desperately trying to stall for time.

"To play a game," they said, still remaining menacingly calm.

"Just don't hurt them," Harry said again, still trying to buy some time, to think of something. But there was nothing he could do, he had left his wand in his bedroom upstairs.

"Here's how we play," they said, his pleas falling on deaf ears. "I ask you a question, if you get it right, Ron lives."

"Leave Ron out of this!" Harry said furiously.

"Warm up question. How many players to a side in Quidditch?"

Harry closed his eyes in frustration, not wanting to play into their games, yet he knew he would have to.

"Seven," he whispered quietly.

"Good. Now for the real question."

Harry groaned loudly in frustration.

"Come on! Just leave us alone!" he said desperately again.

"But you're doing so well," they said, as though consoling a five year old who had scraped their knee.

"Next question."

Harry let out a shuddering breath he didn't know he was holding as they began the next question.

"Who taught 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' in your fourth year?"

"Moody," Harry replied at once, relief spreading throughout him.

"Sorry. That's a wrong answer," they replied lightly, as though it didn't matter.

"What?" Harry said in dismay, fear shooting through him again. "No it was Moody."

"Afraid not."

"Yes it is! It was Mad-Eye Moody! I sat in his classes for a year!" Harry said loudly as he stood up.

"Then you should know that it wasn't really him that was teaching," they said forcefully, becoming angry. "It was Barty Crouch, Jr. teaching."

Harry's heart plummeted as he realized his mistake, he clenched his eyes shut and leaned backwards against the wall.

"You tricked me," Harry said lowly, trying to distract them from his mistake.

"Well lucky for you there's a bonus round," they said calmly. "But poor Ron, he's out."

"No, leave him out of this!" Harry said fearfully as he dropped the phone, flicking on the light switch.

He looked outside as he fumbled with the lock on the door, trying to get outside. He stopped dead in his tracks, as he looked outside, trying to find Ron. But he wasn't there. Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears as his shaking hands tried desperately to twist the knob on the door handle, to unlock the doors. He shook the doors loudly, trying to get out as he realized they would not open for him.

Desperate, he spun on the spot and pounced down on the phone he had dropped, speaking into it.

"Where is he?" Harry demanded. The person on the other end laughed softly.

"It's too late for him. But we're not finished yet."

"What have you done with him!" he demanded again, almost yelling.

He can't be dead. Harry thought to himself as he let out a shuddering breath. He can't be.

"Final question."

"Tell me where he is!" he said, trying to hide the obvious fear and shock.

"Just answer the question Harry."

"Tell me wh-"

"Which door am I at?" they said again, becoming impatient.

"What?" he said quietly as he held the telephone tightly to his ear.

"There are two main doors to your house, the front door and the patio door. Which one am I at?"

He bit his lip in anticipation as he looked up. He stood up quickly and turned on the spot, looking at the patio doors to his left. He backed away from it, his eyes darting from the front door back to this one.

"Let me give you a clue."

Harry's heart pounded fiercely in his chest as he tried to think, tried to do something. Suddenly he was thrown onto his back as the patio doors forcefully swung open, their glass shattering throughout the room. Harry gasped at his head hit the floor, as the telephone he had held so tightly went flying.

He quickly raised himself up, his feet slipping on the shards of glass as they cut into his hands and feet. He stood up in shock, his mind trying to process what had happened as he saw a cloaked figure in the distance, not far from where Ron had been. Feeling as though this were happening to someone else, Harry backed away into the kitchen, grabbing his pocketknife off the bench where he had placed it. He crouched down lowly as he backed away into the dining room, holding the knife tightly in his hand.

He heard the unmistakable sound of glass crunching underneath some ones shoes as he continued backing away, his head pounding, his hands shaking. His breath caught in his throat as the cloaked figure suddenly appeared in his line of sight, walking calmly towards the hallway in search of him. Harry let out another shuddering breath as they disappeared out of sight. He stood straight and almost ran towards the front door. He looked over his shoulder as he undid the locks on the door, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The chain fell loose, tinkling softly against the door as he turned the handle and slowly opened it. Not taking his eyes from the living area he slipped through the door, clenching his teeth together in terror as it gave a small creak, before shutting with a quiet click.

He backed away from the door quickly, hiding next to the window as held the knife tightly to his chest. He slid down the wooden exterior, letting himself breath, trying to think. He breathed in, shuddering, as his breath became a light fog in front of his face.

A shadow passed over him, and for a moment, he was sure he had been caught. He looked up towards the window, his heart giving a jolt as the figure calmly ascended upstairs. Harry watched as he went out of sight, before steeling himself for his next move. Still crouching he moved left, quickly coming around the corner. He stepped quietly down the steps that led from the patio at the side of the house, onto the grass that was moist with dew. He ignored the sharp pains in the soles of his feet from the glass as he ran towards the end of the house, towards the backyard where he had last seen Ron.

He crouched down again as he reached the corner of the house, looking through the railing of the back patio he searched desperately for some sign of his friend.

"Ron!" he whispered as loudly as he dared. "Ron!"

He waited desperately for Ron to reply, swearing when he didn't. He twisted around, looking at what he could see of the house inside. He couldn't see anybody. Praying to Merlin, he stood up and almost ran up the patio steps, still holding the knife in front of him. He needed his wand, but it was upstairs. Holding his breath, Harry stepped inside, once again ignoring the pain in his feet as more glass cut into the soles. Still shaking horribly, he bolted into the hallway, turning right he wrapped his free hand around the doorknob to his godfather's bedroom.

He frantically turned the knob, pushing against the door with all his might. It wouldn't open. Panicking badly, he turned the doorknob, whispering again as loud as he dared,

"Sirius! Sirius let me in!"

He threw a glance over his shoulder before pushing again at the door, begging it to unlock, begging Sirius to hear him. He rattled the door, no longer caring if he was heard, it was his only resort.

"Siri-"

He was suddenly cut short as a strong hand wrapped itself over his mouth, the other around the wrist holding the knife. Harry screamed in frustration as he fought against the hold on him, trying to get away. They quickly wrangled the knife out of his hand, letting his hand fall free. Instinctively he bought his now free hand upwards, scratching at his captor's face, but only reaching a solid black mask.

He did the only thing he could think of, quickly driving his elbow into their stomach as hard as he could, repeating this action again. They let go of him with a gasp, falling sideways, he flung out his hand to break his fall, and then used it to push himself back up again. He scrambled to his feet and ran straight for the kitchen, stumbling slightly.

His bleeding feet slipped on the old Muggle tiles as he was again caught from behind, this time bringing them both to the ground. Harry struggled furiously, desperate not to be pinned as the cloaked figure painfully pressed their knee onto his chest, hindering his breathing. They caught his free arm; the other trapped underneath him and raised the knife high in the air.

Seeing this, he panicked, and used all the strength he could muster, pulling his trapped arm out from underneath him, bringing it forward to deflect the knife. Harry yelled in pain as it sliced through the skin on his upper arm, his arm feeling as though it were on fire as blood quickly soaked the shirt around it. They calmly leaned over him, grabbing his hair and pulling his head forward, then slamming it back down onto the tiles.

Harry let out a soft 'oomph' as his head came crashing down, stars dancing in front of his eyes. He immediately felt faint, the stars in his eyes turning to a white haze. He stopped struggling as the Death Eater raised their hand and tore of their mask, revealing his identity.

Harry blinked his eyes furiously as he raised his knee and slammed it as hard as he could into Snape's groin. He pulled back his other arm clenching his fingers into a fist as he swung at his face as best he could. He swung again as Snape dropped his pocketknife, giving him another chance. Harry swung his knee upwards again, and Snape quickly released him. Leaving no time for shock Harry quickly seized his chance, and scrambled backwards, standing up and running.

He ran as fast as his painful feet would allow him, flinging himself up the stairs as adrenaline began to fully quick in. He reached the second floor and headed straight for his bedroom as he began to feel dizzy. Harry clamped his hand over his upper arm, feeling the warm crimson blood as he burst into his room, the door locking itself behind him. Not caring how it had locked itself, he flung himself towards his bed, knowing he didn't have much time.

"No, no, no," he muttered to himself as he searched desperately on his bed for his wand.

"Not now, please not now." He shot down to the floor and looked quickly under his bed, trying to think where it may have rolled. Desperation set in again as he frantically searched for his wand. Harry froze as he heard to unmistakable sounds of footsteps running up the stairs. He stood quickly and immediately felt light headed, ignoring this he went straight to his window and pushed the large window up. Bracing himself against the frame, Harry forced himself out of it, placing his feet on the tiles of the sloping roof of the front patio. He let go of the window frame as he slowly moved his feet down the tiled roof, thanking Merlin that none of them were loose.

His bedroom door opened with a bang, Snape entering the bedroom just as Harry reached the edge of the roof. He looked up fearfully as Snape rushed over to the window, still trying to keep his balance. Snape's expression contorted into a mixture of rage and hate as he launched himself at the window, drawing his wand. Harry tore his eyes away from him as he put his foot on the loose gutter, deeply cutting it as he jumped off the patio roof. The feeling of weightlessness he often associated with falling off a broomstick rushed over him as he fell for what seemed to be forever.

Suddenly his feet slammed into the ground, painfully rattling every bone in his body. White-hot pain shot through his left ankle as his knees buckled and he collapsed sideways onto the ground. He wasted no time as he pushed himself up with his good arm, the other still bleeding profusely. He scrambled to his feet, but yelled in pain as his ankle gave way. He pushed himself up again, this time taking all his weight onto his good foot, he raised his eyes upward to the Muggle road, only twenty feet away.

He only needed to reach the road, to get past the wards so that he could Apparate and get some help. He twisted his head around just as a Snape strolled down the front steps, flicking his wand at him.

"Sectumsempra!"

Harry gasped as he felt his shirt rip open as large gashes appeared on his stomach and chest, stumbling backwards he collapsed backwards onto the ground, completely defenceless. His stomach and chest bleed profusely, as blood began trickling down his face, from the gash on his cheek he had not noticed.

He watched in horror as Snape stood over him as he desperately tried to move away from him. He knelt over him, once again placing his knee down on his chest to restrict his breathing, his hand reaching for his neck, squeezing tightly as he blocked off all air.

Harry struggled furiously, thrashing at him as Snape pinned down one of his arms. He bought his free one up to his captors face, clawing and scratching at him desperately for release. He tried to breathe in, but only choked as Snape tightened his grip as he leaned down to his face.

"Not so big are you now Potter," he said coldly.

He could feel himself loosing consciousness. He could feel his mind clouding over as he desperately tried to free himself. Snape increased the pressure on his chest, as his lungs felt fit to burst with the pain. His struggles became less, his arm falling to his side as he slowly fell completely limp.


	23. Chapter 23

"Well are you sure he's not in the bathroom?" Mrs. Weasley said hotly.

"I've looked everywhere Mum! I even looked outside for the bloody moron," Ginny said in annoyance as she sat down at the table in the cramped kitchen, sipping the hot chocolate, which had now gone cold.

"Well your brother has to be somewhere Ginevra," Mrs. Weasley said.

"If you ask me Mum," Ginny replied as she stood up and tipped her cold drink down the magical drain. "He's at the village ogling the poor Muggle girl at the paper shop."

"Well if that's where he is he'll want to come home very quickly," she said darkly as she pottered around the kitchen, muttering to herself in a low voice.

Ginny sat back down with a fresh mug of hot chocolate, sipping it gently as she tested its heat.

"Are we going to get another owl Mum?" Ginny said, thinking of how Errol finally 'kicked the bucket' not so long ago.

"I suppose we'll have to eventually dear," her mother replied as she tapped her wand on a few things, sending saucepans and bacon flying around the kitchen.

The front door opened with a creak as Arthur Weasley entered his home, his hand on the clock flicking from 'traveling', to 'home', then back to 'mortal peril'.

"Only me dear," he called out as he hung up his robes on the stand near the door.

"How did it go?" Mrs. Weasley called out as her balding husband entered the cramped kitchen, kissing his daughter hello as he sat down next to her.

"Good, good," he replied as he leaned back, folding his hands together on his stomach.

"I found the right platform easily enough, and I think Hermione will be home a few hours," he said, reminiscing of all the Muggle technology that had baffled, yet pleased him nonetheless.

"Harry looked pleased last night," he continued as he took from inside his jumper, the photos of the previous night that he had developed that morning, handing them to Ginny after he looked at each one.

"He certainly did," Mrs. Weasley replied, her eyes darting to the 'Happy Birthday' sign which sill hung above the dining room table.

"Well he certainly enjoyed the distraction you provided Ginevra," Mr. Weasley said playfully to his daughter, nudging her as she turned bright red.

"Just taking advantage of my right as girlfriend," she said, trying to pass off her father's attempt at embarrassing her.

"So I suppose we'll be getting another owl soon Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said remembering Ginny's comment as she turned the bacon over in the pan with a jab of her wand.

"We'll have to Molly," he said cheerfully, still flipping through the photos. "Ahh look at this one Ginny," he said, handing her a particularly sweet picture. She looked at it, smiling as the Harry in the photo wrapped his arms around her from behind, his party hat askew as they smiled cheekily at each other.

"I guess that means another trip to Diagon Alley then," she said darkly. Since Voldemort's return, she had been particularly careful about her family's trips there, and this had only been worsened by the attack on Gringotts not so long ago.

"Hmm, while we're there we ought to have that clock looked at Molly," Mr. Weasley replied, not concentrating fully on his conversation.

"Why is that dear?" she replied as she magically cracked an egg onto the saucepan alongside the bacon.

"Ron's hand is wrong. It's pointing to missing, that's all."

"Missing?" Ginny said to her father in awe. He nodded, unaware of the particular circumstances. Ginny turned her head, looking at her mother uncertainly. Mrs. Weasley returned the look as she walked into the living room to inspect the clock, wiping her hands clean on her apron.

"Arthur?" she said loudly as she approached his seat after carefully analyzing the clock.

"Yes dear?" he said, slightly distracted.

"I'm not sure it's broken," she said, her voice rising an octave.

It was the pounding headache that Sirius first noticed as he opened his eyes late Sunday morning. He blearily bought his hand to his eyes as he rubbed the sleep out of them, his other hand propping himself up on the hard wooden floor of his large bedroom. Sirius Black squinted his eyes as he began to fully wake up, his head pounding like a stampede of Hippogriffs. He sat up properly with a groan, wondering how on earth he had fallen asleep on the floor.

"Merlin, how much did I drink last night?" he muttered to himself darkly as he pushed himself to his feet, swaying awfully. But he hadn't had anything to drink the previous night. Confusion rising, he gingerly walked into his closet, pulling on an old pair of jeans and a threadbare shirt. Still rubbing his eyes he slowly padded into his bathroom, the Muggle tiles cold on his bare feet, he went straight to the sink, turning the tap on. Sirius closed his eyes with a sigh as he splashed the cool water onto his face, hoping it would wake himself up.

He opened his eyes briefly, and started when he saw the water running down the sink, a soft red swirl mixing with the water. He straightened up suspiciously and looked into the mirror above, freezing at what he saw. Dark crimson blood had dried in place down the right half of his face, now somewhat smeared by the presence of water. Swearing he raised his hand to his face, feeling with disgust the parts of his hair that were caked with blood. He flinched as he pressed gently the spot where he had been bludgeoned, hidden by his long dark hair.

He stepped back from the mirror, tearing himself away from his reflection, closing his eyes tightly against his headache as he exited the hallway into the living area, freezing again in shock. Frozen in place Sirius looked around wide-eyed, trying to make sense of the broken doors, the one closest to him creaking loudly as it swayed with the hot morning breeze, he then turned his attention to the kitchen where a large smear of blood stained the white tiles.

He couldn't move. He couldn't think. All that penetrated his mind was the broken doors, the crunch of glass beneath his feet, the smear of blood on the kitchen floor. He tried to move, but his legs felt like lead, stuck in place. He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to comprehend what was going on around himself.

"Harry?" he yelled, his limbs and mind working again. Sirius rushed through the kitchen, careful not to step on the large smear. He rushed through the dining room, not even noticing the small smears of blood on the floor that led to the staircase, nor the larger smears on the banister and wall.

"Harry!" he called out again more desperately as he reached the second floor, rushing towards his godson's bedroom.

"Harry are you there?" he said, his voice faltering as he reached the almost closed door, the black scorch mark on the front stopping him in his tracks. Apprehensively, he reached out with his hand, pushing the door open to reveal Harry's bedroom, which at first glance appeared unblemished.

"Harry?" he said more quietly as he entered the room, taking note of the bed, which had not been slept in, the small smears of blood on the floor, and the prominent hand smear on the blanket and pillow.

He stood transfixed again, his brain trying to make sense of it all. He felt as though this were happening to someone else as he rushed back downstairs, calling out desperately for his godson.

"Harry!" he yelled in frustration when nobody answered his calls. He placed his hands on the back of his head as he slowly turned on the spot in the living room, trying hard not to panic. Finally, not knowing what else to do he waved his wand, sending a silvery colored animal roaring from its tip. He watched as the animal pounded its way out the broken doors, then as it soared into the open air, on its way to the recipient.

Sirius folded his arms, nervously biting the nails on his fingers, an old habit that had reared back into life a few months ago. Sirius began pacing, trying to keep calm as he impatiently waited; terrifying explanations running through his head.

He can't have one too far, he thought to himself nervously, but his heart sank as he remembered the large smear of blood he had seen in the kitchen. He let out a shuddering breath as he forced himself to sit down on the lounge, placing his head in his hands, still trying to remain calm.

"Sirius?"

Sirius looked up, hope showing clearly in his eyes. He sighed again as Tonks ran up the back steps.

"Are you both OK?" she said, her voice trailing off as she laid eyes on the broken doors, and Sirius sitting nervously on the couch. Sirius stood up and approached her, desperation clear on his face.

"Harry's missing," he blurted out.

"What?" Tonks said in dismay, her bright purple hair seemed to be wilting at this news.

"He-he's gone, I can't find him anywhere!" Sirius continued, beginning to babble out of his nervousness.

"And th-there's blood in the kitchen and he's not in his room, an-"

"Alright Sirius stop," Tonks said calmly, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders as though steadying a drunken man.

"Stay here, don't touch anything," she continued, her calm voice mocking the nervousness she truthfully felt inside.

"I'm going to get help OK? Stay here," she said again, more firmly.

Sirius took a shuddering breath as he nodded, trying to regain calmness such as his cousins.

Giles Cory had been an Auror for almost twenty-six years, and like Alastor Moody, he had seen it all. Every high and low of life as an Auror was easily recalled to him as though it were yesterday. He had however, never experienced anywhere near as much tension as he was now, as he stood outside the home of the legendary Harry Potter, who had been reported missing almost three hours ago.

Cory stood straight as he rubbed his weary eyes. As new head of the Auror department it was now his responsibility to organize the search party, the investigation, the hawks that called themselves journalists, everything. He had never appreciated the ease of being ordered around by his superiors he thought to himself as he crossed his arms, observing the notes in front of him.

It was obvious that this was more than a runaway teen. The bloodstains inside and outside the house were enough to tell that. He knew never to make assumptions, but could not shake the feeling that this was kidnap. Cory unfolded his arms and fiddled with his brown haired goatee nervously, lost in thought. Cory had ever liked kidnap cases, they were too messy, too personal, too draining for everyone. In simpler terms, he preferred the type of case that had more chances of a good outcome.

To make matters worse, another teen had been reported missing this morning. He looked down at the photo of the red haired teen boy he was holding, whose picture was pulling faces at him. He threw the picture face down onto the desk, sighing at the precarious situation.

"What are the chances?" he had muttered to himself when he was informed of the second missing teen that morning. And he was right, the chance of two missing teens in one day was no coincidence, only minutes ago he had been informed by his secretary that this was no coincidence.

"Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter," Janice had said to him. "They're best friends."

His brow wrinkled as bizarre scenarios whizzed through his mind at an alarming rate, all trying to tell him what to do next. But what could he do? He knew he wasn't cut out for this particular job and he wondered every day why he had accepted the position he was offered.

"Giles are you listening to me?"

Corey snapped out of his reservoir, looking wide eyed at the man standing next to him.

"Yes, what do you want?" he said briskly to Edward Proctor, the Auror who was next in line for his position.

"Someone from WCSI found something inside, no one knows what it is."

"Yes alright, where?" he said hurriedly. Ed turned and led him towards the evidence tent that had been set up in the paddock opposite the old fashioned home. As they walked, the previous tension he had been avoiding came back, pressing in on all sides. Nothing like this had happened in years. Kidnappings happened everyday, but not to people like Harry Potter. Everybody who had heard about it was shocked, disbelieving something like this could happen to such a prominent person in his or her society.

Cory squinted slightly as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the evidence tent, just as Ed picked up something from the table.

"This," he said holding up an oval shaped object which was protected by a magically sealed bag.

He peered at the object observing the numbers and grey rectangle, remembering something vaguely similar in his past. Suddenly he remembered what he was thinking of, the memory fresh in his mind.

"Owl Perkins from the old Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. Tell him I want to see him immediately."

Ed nodded as he placed the bag gently on the table where he had taken it.

"Any other evidence collected yet?"

"Yes," said Ed, his voice trailing off slightly. He went around to the other side of the table, stepping around the witch who was carefully guarding the evidence. He picked up another magically sealed bag, this one containing a bloodstained pocketknife.

"Found in the kitchen, only cause of the blood found yet."

Cory nodded and thanked him as he turned and left the tent quickly, the sun shining down brightly as though mocking the situation. Ed quickly followed him, keeping up easily with his brisk walk.

"Media wasn't too pleased with 'no comment' Giles. Are we not releasing any other information yet?"

"No," he said firmly as he slowed to a stop, observing with taste the wooded exterior of the home, which was under extensive investigation.

"Tell the media nothing. Has Black, the witness, given his statement yet?"

"Uhh yes he's at the ministry. Same for the first Auror on the scene, Nymphadora Tonks, she's also given her statement."

"Good. Right I want all evidence collected as soon as possible, taken back to the office and documented immediately. Get a draughts person out here now, I want full sketch of the house and surrounding area including furniture; doorways; windows; bloodstains and all evidence," he rattled off, Ed taking notes on his clipboard.

"Sure," he said as he turned and left, leaving him alone. He took in a deep breath, trying to clear his thoughts as he watched the junior Aurors in the distance doing a full foot search of the surrounding yard, slowly walking in formation as they looked carefully for evidence, or worse a body.

Cory closed his eyes as he linked his fingers together behind his head, relaxing for a moment from giving orders and trying to keep control. He listened to the sounds, the birds in the trees calling, the tense chatter of the witches and wizards around him. Suddenly the tense chatter was broken by the yells of the Aurors doing the foot search.

Cory opened his eyes, as the yells became louder, his eyes spotting the shots of red sparks in the air that came from the few trees that lined the far back of the property. They had found something.

Cory was there in an instant, appearing a little way from the huddled group with a loud crack, which seemed to echo through the few trees. He rushed towards the group, the Aurors parting to let him through as the sound of other Apparaters echoed. His face instantly fell as his eyes saw what had caused such a stir.

Grimly he knelt down onto the slightly damp earth, reaching his hand out to place to fingers firmly on the neck of the stark white colored person, feeling uncertainly for a pulse. His fingers moved slightly as he felt a small throb. Cory breathed a sigh of relief as he said, "Somebody get a blanket. Contact St Mungo's."

"Who is it sir?" one of the Aurors who had found him said in awe as another conjured up a thick blanket. Cory took the blanket from them gratefully, placing it firmly over the unconscious body.

"Ronald Weasley," he said, satisfaction flowing through him.


	24. Chapter 24

Dark clouds rolled in over the quiet village of Little Hangleton, just as midday passed. A strong breeze swept through the village, chilling everyone whom was outside to the bones. Muggles who were venturing out before the forecast storm pulled on thick jackets, ready for the heavy down pour of rain that was inevitable.

The strong breeze rustled the overgrown trees of The Riddle House, which was still standing on the top of the rolling hills, its windows boarded, and its gardens wild and unkempt. The house revealed nothing of its former glory, of its former grandeur and beauty. It had been unoccupied for almost thirty years, only with the exception of the group of dark wizards, who unknown to the villagers, used it as some form of on and off headquarters.

Lord Voldemort and his expanding group of Death Eaters met regularly in various set locations, never meeting in one place too often. However, their current meeting place was once again the village of Little Hangleton, although this meeting was bound to last much longer with the addition of their 'guest of honor.'

A cold draft crept into the third story of The Riddle House, causing the semi-conscious Harry Potter to shiver involuntarily. He had been lying in a sort of daze for almost a half hour now, his pounding head trying to come to terms with what had happened the previous night. He forced himself to breathe in deeply as he forced his tired eyes open, half wishing that he could continue sleeping forever.

His eyes could only register the dark room in which he lay, the boarded up windows that let in only a trickle of the dying light outside. Harry groaned softly as he shifted slightly onto his back, trying to relieve the growing pressure in his arms, which had been firmly secured behind his back.

Harry Potter stared up at the cobwebs that covered the ceiling, wondering faintly how he was still alive. He took a great shuddering breath as he forced himself to sit up, clenching his eyes shut as dizziness and nausea threatened to overcome him. He kept his eyes tightly closed as he tried to stop his head from spinning, tried to stop the nausea and exhaustion that had begun to show itself.

Giving up, his strength having quickly left him, he relaxed as he lay back down onto his side, the dusty tiles feeling cold and hard on his aching body. He opened his eyes again as he looked around, trying to figure out where he was through the blur that resulted from not wearing his glasses.

He looked down at the tee shirt he had been wearing, two long holes running across where Snape's curse had torn them. From what Harry could see his shirt was terribly bloodstained, although the gashes on his torso and face had obviously healed, leaving him with a dull ache where he had been injured.

Harry sighed as he gave up trying to see clearly, his fingers fiddling with the bonds around his wrist. He struggled slightly, the thin coarse rope feeling awfully tight, as it seemed to burn the skin of his wrist. Harry's fingers worked at the large knotted section near his left hand, trying desperately to undo the knot, uselessly pulling at them. Suddenly Harry stopped short, as the sound of faint footsteps reached his ears over the howling wind outside.

He raised his head a little as he looked at the door, trying to hear something again. Again, the sounds of faint footsteps rang through his ear, becoming louder and clearer with every step. The sound of a lock clicking rang through the air before the solid wooden door opened with a groan. Harry felt his heart pounding somewhere in his throat as two tall and cloaked figures entered the room, heading straight for him.

Harry recoiled at the touch as one of the cloaked figures roughly grabbed his arms, the other taking hold of a fist full of hair as they pulled him forcefully into a standing position. Dizziness washed over him after being pulled up so fast, he swayed on his unsteady feet as one of them whispered coldly into his ear,

"Move."

Feeling as though he was in a dream, he silently complied as they half dragged him out of the dimly lit room into a slightly larger one. Dizziness and exhaustion threatened to overpower him as he let them silently half drag him down the great spiral staircase, which led to the second floor, then to the first, thick dust kicking up behind them as they walked.

As they reached the first floor, which like the rest of the derelict house showed nothing of its former grandeur, Harry's scar began to burn painfully. He clenched his teeth together as the two figures dragged him to the right, and he caught the merest glimpse of what had once been the Riddle family dining room. They now entered the largest room so far, its ceiling extending to the second floor, the large empty fireplace leering at him.

The two Death Eaters let go of him, pushing him roughly to the ground where he swayed slightly, but managed to stay balanced on his knees, short burst of pain shooting through each of them. Harry looked down at the cold and dusty tiles, not knowing what to say or do as his scar continued painfully burning. He clenched his teeth together to stop himself from gasping out loud.

"My Lord," the two Death Eaters muttered in unison from behind him. Hearing clearly heard what they had said, Harry twisted around fearfully and looked into the cold eyes of Lord Voldemort.

"Harry," he said softly. "How nice of you to join us."

Harry's breath seemed to stop in his throat at the sound of Voldemort's harsh voice.

"I trust you enjoyed your birthday celebrations," he continued as a clap of thunder sliced through his words. Harry said nothing; he continued to stare into the cold red eyes as hatred pounded through every inch of him. He slowly walked towards him, stopping directly in front of him so that he had to crane his neck a little to see him.

"My, my, my," he muttered loudly to himself as he observed Harry as though he were an old friend. "You've grown older."

Harry continued to stare, his eyes never leaving Voldemort's as his scar began throbbing painfully. Voldemort squatted down so that he was facing Harry straight on, a small smirk playing on his lips. He opened his mouth and said cruelly,

"The good looks your parents gave you will be wasted when I'm done with you."

Hatred again rose up inside him at the simple mention of his parents. Without stopping to think, he drew a quick breath and spat as hard as he could at the man who had ruined his life.

Seemingly unfazed, Voldemort stood up, nodding to the Death Eaters Harry could no longer see. They quickly approached him, as though they had been awaiting this for a long time. Harry barely had time to look up before white-hot pain shot through his face and neck as he was kicked hard in the side of his face. Harry gasped as white dots danced in front of his eyes, as he was knocked sideways onto the ground from the force.

He let out a short breath as he was pulled back onto his knees again, looking up as Voldemort cleaned his face with an expert flick of his hand. He began softly laughing at the reaction he had gotten.

The Death Eater who had pulled him up again held tightly onto his hair as the other lashed out at his face again. Harry let out another gasp as they did this, as he felt his nose begin to bleed heavily, the fresh blood mixing with the dried that was already on his face.

Voldemort looked back down at him, almost sympathetically.

"Don't bother fighting Harry. You know you can't win."

Harry looked back up at him, glaring as he was released from the Death Eaters hold.

"Since when," he said coldly, finding his voice. "Do you tell me what I know?"

Harry bit his lip, preparing for the next blow to his face that did not come.

"I see you still have your old cheek. That will soon change."

Harry bit his lips hard as he looked down at the ground, the pain from his face and scar becoming unbearable. He quietly took a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm, despite the situation.

"What do you want?"

Voldemort paused, the hem of his black robes just visible to Harry who was still looking at the ground.

"Isn't it obvious?" he stated simply.

"If it was so bleeding obvious I wouldn't have asked," Harry said forcefully, looking up at him again, his words earning a third painful kick in the face.

"There is a lot of information that Dumbledore has told you about in the past few years," Voldemort continued, completely unfazed by Harry's words.

"Information which you are no doubt going to give. How long it takes…" he finished as he sat down in a comfortable armchair that Harry had not noticed.

"…is up to you."

Harry looked defiantly back up at Voldemort as lightning flashed through the sky. He knew exactly the things Voldemort wanted, and exactly what extreme measures he would reach to get them.

"Well make yourself comfortable," he began. "Because I'm not talking."


	25. Chapter 25

Mrs. Weasley pulled the warm blanket covering her youngest son over his chest and arms, as she noticed the goose bumps that had formed there on his freckled arms. She affectionately rubbed her hand over her sleeping son's face as she sat back down into the comfortable armchair that St Mungos' had provided, tucking her own blanket tightly around her.

Molly Weasley watched her son for a little while, before falling into a restless semi-doze herself. He had been found unconscious behind some trees on Sirius' property almost nine and a half hours ago, and had been taken straight to St. Mungo's where after some initial difficulty; the staff had been able to rouse him. They had easily been able to tell that he had simply taken a powerful stunner to the face, which was why they had found it so hard to rouse him. Other than that, it was only a major headache due to the large blow he had sustained.

Since then he had been awake on and off, barely speaking a word which was obviously very out of character.

"He's probably in a bit of shock," a kind Healer had said to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that afternoon. "He'll probably just need a few hours to adjust to what's happened. Perhaps a good night's sleep."

Molly Weasley hoped the Healer was right, her son's strange quietness having sparked fears of a Death Eater in disguise. Thankfully, these fears were quickly squashed, and for the main part, the media had not been given much to report on anything to do with the awful events that had happened.

Mrs. Weasley shifted uncomfortably as she continued watching her son blearily, at the same time wondering what could have happened to Harry, who over the years had grown to be her seventh son. Early that evening, a sort of base had been set up at The Burrow, where everybody involved had set themselves up, impatiently awaiting contact from the Death Eaters. Of course, she had been happy to share her home with those people, but wished desperately that things were not this way.

"Mum."

Mrs. Weasley opened her eyes abruptly, having almost fallen asleep. She looked towards Ron who was now lying on his side facing her, wide-awake.

"Yes dear?" she said warmly, sitting up and pulling the chair closer to his bed.

Ron paused before continuing, almost as if he didn't really want to ask.

"Have they found him yet?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed, wishing she didn't have to tell him this.

"Not yet, but they will."

Ron seemed to deflate; he relaxed back into the comfortable pillows again, nodding in a defeated manner.

Every Auror in Great Britain came with one of five ranks. There was the Chief Auror, now modernly known as the head of the department. Following the head was superintendent, senior, junior and then intern who ranked lowest of all.

The ranking of an Auror is easily distinguished by counting how many stars were magically sewn onto their Auror robes. Five stars for the one and only chief, four stars for the superintendent and so forth.

Auror Jennifer Baker had three stars, telling whoever happens to be looking that three years ago she had been promoted to Senior Auror, and had immediately loved her new rank, which carried new responsibilities. However, the one part of her job that she hated was her group of interns. Every year when the next generation of interns graduated from their Auror training, most Senior Aurors were given the 'privilege' of hosting a small group of interns, giving them continuous on the job training for six months until the blessed day that they became independent Juniors.

The different skills and personalities of each intern were assessed, and they were separated evenly into groups where they were supposed to balance each other out. However that was not how it seemed to work for Jennifer, for the past three years her group of interns were always the pushiest, the most arrogant and the most selfish, simply because no other Senior were able to handle them the way she seemed to be able to. A fact that she would happily change.

This year was her fourth year hosting a group of interns, and it seemed that this group was by far the most difficult. They had only been out of the academy for three weeks, and seemed to expect that she would be taking them on thrilling adventures where they would single handedly fight off a group of Death Eaters. However, Jennifer had rejoiced in the fact that she could boss them around, make them do boring paperwork and generally run around after her. However, this rejoicing never seemed to last long, especially toward the beginning of another week.

Jennifer tucked the bulky pile of paperwork underneath her arm more securely as she pushed the large wooded door to the boardroom open, where they met each morning.

"It's not a bribe," the blonde haired intern whispered to the olive skinned man next to her.

"Good morning," she said in a bored tone of voice as she entered, the door swinging shut behind her. Immediately four Aurors looked up at her, dreading the work she would assign them today.

"Barcliffe," she began. "Senior Auror Shaklebolt had asked for you to shadow him today, go."

Monty Barcliffe stood up grinning, knowing that a day with Shaklebolt could not be too torturous.

"Peterson," she began again, taking one of the folders out from under her arm and handing it to the wizard with spiky brown hair. "You can do filing again today, seeing as you did a half job yesterday. Organize them, file them alphabetically, then you're going to write me a six inch essay on how to properly file your paperwork"

Anthony Peterson scowled as he looked through the large folder of paperwork he was supposed to re file, thinking savagely about wasted time.

"Walker, Jefferson in emergency needs someone to cover in the distress call center. Remember to take the distress call, hand it over to a junior, write up the paperwork and file it. File it properly or you'll be redoing it."

The blonde haired witch who had been talking when Jennifer entered sighed internally at the thought of giving practical assignments over to the juniors, then having to do their paperwork.

"Pulous," Jennifer said to the olive skinned wizard. "You're going to sit in on this morning's session of court in courtroom three. I want a full essay on laws regarding 'broomstick flying while under the influence,' and a complete notes on the court room proceedings."

The blonde hair witch sitting next to Pulous glared at him as he stretched back happily in his chair, glad for his chance to watch a trial, essay and all.

Jennifer tucked the rest of the paperwork more firmly under her arm as she continued, still speaking as though she were mildly bored.

"I'll be out in the field this morning so y'all going to have to work extra hard not to screw up, because I won't be here to fix your mistakes. Try not to get in anybody's way today."

She stepped back as she was about to leave when the three interns left suddenly swarmed towards her.

"Senior Auror Baker," the blonde haired addressed her. "I was hoping that I could assist you today out in the field, maybe do a minor procedure. I think I'm ready. Mocha Latte?" she finished, indicating to the take away coffee she had bought for her. Immediately the other two interns began talking over each other.

"If she goes I go-"

"I'd like another try at fi-"

"It's my turn in the field Auror Bak-"

Frustrated, Jennifer held her hand up for silence.

"Every intern wants to do field work," she said, with the air of having explained this many, many times before. "That's not your job. Your job is to make your senior look happy. Do I look happy? No! Why? Because my interns are whiney, and pushy. Do you know what will make me happy?"

She looked at each of them individually as she continued. "Having someone cover in emergency, having someone sit in for that trial, and having someone file their paperwork properly for once."

She pursed her lips at them as she took the Mocha Latte she had been offered as she turned around and began to leave.

"No body goes into the field until I'm so happy I'm Mary freakin' Poppins!"

"Who's Mary Poppins?" Peterson whispered in an undertone voice.

Jennifer turned around as she reached the door, looking at the still interns incredulously.

"Why y'all standing there move!"

Jennifer turned away as she left the boardroom, annoyed with her pushy interns who managed to bring out her bad side. She walked past the many cubicles where various Aurors sat, going about their regular work. She took a sip of the drink Walker had tried to bribe her with as she approached the large reception desk near the doors that led out of the head quarters.

"Morning Yvonne," she said with genuine cheerfulness. "How's the work load this morning?"

"Awful," Yvonne said from the desk. "It's chaos, most of the Superintendents are working overtime looking for the Potter boy."

"I know, I'm off there now. Here's the paperwork from last month you asked for."

"Lovely, thanks," Yvonne said as she relieved Jennifer from the heavy stack of paperwork.

"Yah welcome," Jennifer said as she left the Auror office at a brisk walk, riding the elevators to the Atrium floor where she could Apparate to The Burrow.

She stepped out of the crowded elevator when it reached the atrium, her long black Auror robed billowing around her feet as she stepped. She briskly walked towards the closest Apparation point when she heard someone calling her name.

"Baker!"

Jennifer stopped just in time as the Head of the Auror Department caught up with her.

"Morning Cory," she said. "Just coming back from The Burrow are you?"

"Yes," he said breathlessly. "That's where you're going right?"

She nodded at this and he continued, fiddling nervously with his goatee. "If the Death Eaters make contact notify me straight away."

"Yes sir," she said with a nod as he began to head back to the office.

"It's not looking good is it?" she called out to him.

He twisted his head around far enough to shake it, answering her question. And he was right, Jennifer thought as she entered the home of the Weasley family, kindly introducing herself to everybody there.

"Hi, Jennifer Baker," she said to Mrs. Weasley whose flower patterned apron was covered in some kind of flour.

"Feel free to call me Jenny though. How's your son going?" she continued kindly.

"He's going alright, St Mungo's let him home this morning," Mrs. Weasley said, sounding slightly as though she had a head cold. "Are you from the Auror Department dear?"

Jennifer nodded. "I'm a senior Auror, but I specialize in situations such as this."

Which was true. She had completed many courses, which gave her extensive training for dire situations such as kidnappings, which is why she had been specifically asked to assist in this case. Things like this were mainly kept to the Superintendents. She saw Edward Proctor standing in the corner of the room beckoning her to approach him. Leaving Mrs. Weasley she approached him as he began talking quietly, giving her the run through of the situation so far.

"Who is everybody?" she said as she looked around.

"Uhh Sirius Black, Potter's legal guardian," he said indicating to the man with dark hair, sitting quiet and pale on the couch.

"Ron Weasley our only witness, he's upstairs, parents are Molly and Arthur Weasley. Uhhh," he scanned his eyes around the room when they fell on the two teenage girls sitting at the dining room table.

"The redhead at the table, Ginny Weasley, she's been Potter's girlfriend since the last school term. And the brunette, that's Hermione Granger, another close friend of Potters."

Jennifer's eyes looked towards the bushy brown haired girl, who sat quietly at the dining room table, head in her hands, tears rolling down her face as Ginny tried to comfort her as best she could.

"She's supposed to be with her Muggle parents in London, but she's at risk so we had her brought in only twenty minutes ago. Poor thing didn't know anything about what had happened."

Jennifer watched the two girls for a few moments, hating whoever was responsible for this.

"So what's the plan of action?"

The air was thick with tension when Bill Weasley arrived home from his honeymoon early to be with his family. Fleur was due to arrive also as soon as she could. It was early afternoon when the team of Aurors sat down with Sirius, Bill and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the two teens having been sent upstairs to see how Ron was doing.

"We know from your son's statement, that this is definitely the work of Death Eaters," Proctor began.

Sirius seemed to deflate at this statement. For the last day, he had been clinging only to the hope that Harry had run away for some reason.

"There isn't much we can do at the moment except wait for them to contact us."

"When will that be?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Usually the first twenty-four hours," Jennifer began. "But it just depends on what's happening at their end of this. If things aren't working out they way they planned they will probably wait longer to contact, but if things are going smoothly for them, kidnappers would act pretty fast."

"Another thing that need to be brought to attention is the media," another Auror sitting near the end of the dining room table said. "We need to keep you-know-who out of the loop as much as possible."

"The same goes for information which is shared amongst ourselves," Jennifer said. "You-know-who has many spies in places we might never think to look, which is why what goes on here must not go too far."

There was silence for a few moments before Sirius said tentatively,

"So, we're just waiting?"

"Until we get some more leads," said Proctor. "That's all we can do."

They sat in silence for a few more moments before Mrs. Weasley stood up, and said in a strained voice.

"I think I'll make a pot of tea."

Sirius took a breath and spoke again.

"So what happens when they make contact?" he said as Mrs. Weasley began pottering around in the kitchen.

"Most likely they'll want to talk to you Sirius," Proctor answered.

"But what? What do I say?"

"Our first concern," Jennifer said, before continuing gently. "Is asking for 'proof of life.' We need them to prove to us that Harry is still alive."

Sirius leaned back into his chair, raising a hand to his face as he closed his eyes for a moment.

"They'll be prepared for that. Secondly, we need to know what their demands are. Ask them specifically what needs to be done to get him back. Whatever their demands are, we have to meet them."

Sirius nodded absentmindedly, thought after thought racing through his mind. Silently, he stood up and left the table, stepping outside into the backyard as he tried to clear his thoughts. He sat down on the grass near the large oak tree, the sun shining down on him, a stark contrast to his feelings inside.

Sirius put his head into his hands as Arthur followed him outside, gingerly sitting down next to him. Arthur put his hand on Sirius' shoulder, speaking softly.

"Don't worry mate, we'll get him back."

Sirius nodded, taking in a shuddering breath as he took his face out of his hands, hoping that he was right.

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	26. Chapter 26

Bang, Ginny slammed the bathroom cabinet door fiercely as she ferociously towel dried her wet hair after showering.

"Ouch missy!" the mirror said indignantly.

"Sod off," she said nastily, dumping her worn towel on the bathroom floor, not bothering to hang it up. Her slightly damp hair swayed around her as she thumped up the stairs towards her bedroom, angry at everything. She entered her bedroom, shutting the door behind her loudly, not caring if anybody heard.

She hated feeling so helpless. Not doing anything. Surely there was something that the Aurors or the Order could be doing to find her boyfriend, but to her it seemed they were doing nothing. She sat down on her bed, rubbing one of her feet, which seemed to be aching a little. She sighed to herself softly, this wasn't fair, none of them deserved to be here right now.

Especially not Ron, she thought angrily to herself.

She closed her eyes at the thought of her brother. Since his return home he had spent much of his time in his bedroom, flipping through year old Quidditch magazines, eating very little of the dinner their mother had bought up for him. She wished he would come down stairs in the morning, Hermione had been distraught when they told her Ron had been involved as well.

Before she realized what she was doing, she pulled on her summer dressing gown over her pajamas, and crept quietly upstairs, heading for her brother's room. She crept past Percy's old bedroom where Hermione would be lying awake and tip toed up the rickety staircase, sighing with relief when she saw light shining under her brother's door.

Ginny pulled a fist and knocked quietly on Ron's door, pushing it open a little.

"Can I come in?" she said quietly, putting her head through. Ron was sitting up in his bed, an old Quidditch magazine sitting on his lap just as she suspected. He looked at her slightly warily, frowning a little.

"Since when do you knock?" he asked. "You normally just barge in."

Ginny took this as a 'yes' in disguise and let herself into his bright orange bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

"Why won't you come downstairs?" she asked as she sat comfortably on the end of his bed, trying to avoid sitting on his feet.

"Because," he replied shortly, looking back at his magazine. "I don't want everyone making a big deal, and acting differently."

"Ron, you were held hostage by Snape and nearly killed. Of course everyone's going to be acting a little differently."

"I know. But they should be looking for Harry."

Ron flicked through a few more pages, stopping at an old poster of the Puddlemere United Seeker, whom he had previously drawn a large moustache on. Ginny fell silent at this, trying to think of something to say which would convince her brother to come downstairs the next day.

"This isn't like you Ron, normally you'd be basking in all the attention."

"Can you blame me?"

"Not really," she muttered, seeing his point clearly.

They both fell silent at his comment, the only sound was the idle turning of magazine pages.

"So how did he…get you?" Ginny said, voicing the question that had been on her mind ever since it happened.

"I don't know," Ron said truthfully, not looking up at her. "One minute I was getting into bed, the next I was at Harry's house. I don't how he did it."

They fell silent before Ginny sniffed a little, the emotions from the last few days building up at his words.

"Hey," Ron said softly, reaching his hand out to clasp hers.

"There's no need to get upset," he said offhandedly.

A tear escaped Ginny's eye as she spoke angrily to the wall in front of her.

"I hate this, it's not fair."

"Life never is," said Ron, hoping that she wouldn't continue crying. He gripped her smaller hand tightly, relieved when she gripped his in return.

Ginny took a shuddering breath and stood up abruptly, heading for his door.

"I should probably go," she said as she opened it.

"Night Ron."

"Night sis," he replied as she shut the door after herself. He listened as her small feet tip toed down the staircase, her lack of presence leaving Ron's bedroom feeling empty. Ron sighed mentally as he threw his magazine to the floor next to his bed, sliding under the covers as he blew the candle out.

He relaxed in his comfortable bed, the moonlight shining across his face. Ron looked back over the small table beside his bed, his eyes falling on the small vial that St Mungos had given him. He reached over and grabbed what was left of the dreamless sleep potion, taking the cork out.

"Night Harry," he muttered to himself as he tipped the contents of the vial into his mouth before once again relaxing into the comfortable bed. A few moments later he felt himself drifting into what would be a night of dreamless sleep, hopefully leaving him feeling refreshed the following morning.

Later that night, Sirius Black sat curled up on the Weasley couch, staring into the fireplace. The butterbeer he held in his hand was not to satisfy his thirst, but to distract himself from the bottle of fire whiskey he wanted to open. He stared into the dying embers, thinking only of his missing godson.

Sirius sighed as he shifted into a more comfortable position, staring blankly into the fireplace. He'd give anything to have him back, he'd do anything. But there was nothing they could do. Or so the Aurors kept telling them. He had never felt more useless, sitting on his arse at the burrow while Death Eaters were doing Merlin knows what to Harry. Sirius forced himself to breathe in as he stood up.

Stop thinking about that, he thought to himself as he entered the kitchen where Remus stood, quietly making himself a cup of tea. It was now past two o'clock on Wednesday morning, Remus had elected to stay awake with him, both insisting to the Weasleys that they get some shuteye.

"It's been over two days Remus," he said softly, announcing his presence. "We should have heard something by now."

Remus looked up at his only remaining friend, his lined face etched with worry also.

"We will," Remus said firmly, trying to comfort his friend.

Sirius silently watch the teaspoon that was magically stirring the tea Remus was making, the question that had been on his mind for the past few days now sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"Do you think he's OK?"

Remus pondered this question, not knowing how to answer truthfully.

"I hope so Sirius."

Sirius placed his butterbeer on the kitchen bench as he leaned against it.

"How did Snape get to them though?" Sirius wondered dully, referring to both Ron and Harry. "How did he get through the wards?"

"I don't know," Remus answered truthfully as he picked up the tea, blowing on if softly.

"He was part of the order, he would have had some idea as to what type of wards we use."

"Yeah, I suppose," Sirius agreed, seeing the point there immediately.

"We could have stopped this from happening," Sirius said lowly. "The order was right, we should have been protecting him more."

Remus looked up sharply from his tea.

"Stop," he said firmly, placing the cup gently onto the bench. "You cannot blame yourself, it's not going to help anybody."

Sirius closed his eyes as he sighed. "I'm sorry, I just can't stop thinking about it."

Remus nodded, understanding what he was trying to say. Sirius looked down at the ground, biting the inside of his mouth as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"I want him back Moony,"

"I know you do," Remus said, stepping towards his friend. Remus rubbed his hand over his lined face, rubbing his tired eyes as he continued.

"We all do, we will get him back."

"I hope your right Remus," Sirius muttered, looking towards the floor of the Weasley kitchen. They stood together for a few more minutes, neither man speaking, both lost deep in their own thoughts. It was only when the Weasley fireplace momentarily roared back into life did they look up.

Hearing this, they cautiously entered the lounge room, wands drawn to the unsuspected sound. They could see nobody, the fireplace had once again been reduced back to embers.

"Who was it?" Sirius said, looking around warily. He turned his face back to Remus, whose outstretched arm was grabbing something from the air infront of the fireplace. Remus looked at it, his face falling as he did so.

"What is it?" Sirius said more desperately, moving towards him. Remus looked up as he held a piece of parchment out towards him.

"It's them."

Sirius looked at him incredulously before snatching it away, he cast his eyes down over the small piece of parchment, reading the message written there.

In return for Potter's life, our demands will be fully met. Await next message, be careful we can hear you loud and clear.

Sirius stared at the note, anger pulsing through every vein in his body. He looked back up as he saw Remus casting an expert Patronus, sending a message to the Auror office.

"What does it mean, 'we can hear you'?" Sirius said angrily to Remus, looking back to the letter.

"They've got to be listening to us somehow," Remus replied nervously, keeping his voice quiet.

"Listening to us huh?" Sirius said under his breath, his anger bubbling up quickly.

"Listen to this assholes!" he yelled, looking around at no where in particular.

"Sirius shut up," Remus said as quietly as he could.

"No body does anything until you prove he is still alive!" he yelled again, ignoring Remus' words, not caring if he woke everybody in the house.

"Prove he is alive!"

Every inch of his body ached painfully as Harry Potter leant against the wall, his hands still tied tightly behind his back. He closed his eyes gently, trying not to move, the dull ache worsening every time he did.

He mentally scolded himself for his reluctance to give Voldemort any information, knowing it did him no good. He had awoken alone in the same room again after the cruciatus curse had become too much for him. Yet no matter what they had done to him for the past day, he had steadfastly refused to speak, refused to answer the questions they had asked him.

Harry forced himself to pull his feet closer to him, trying to keep warm. Harry winced when pain shot through his bones as he moved his feet, leaving him with another dull ache. He didn't know why, but it was terribly cold here all the time, yet it was the middle of the summer.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as despair began to well up inside of him, the injustice of everything beginning to become too much. He clenched his eyes shut tightly as he tried to think of something else. But he couldn't. All he could think about was how much he just wanted to 'high tail his arse' out of here, and he couldn't stop thinking about Ron. He didn't know what had happened to him and it was driving him insane.

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he heard the familiar sounds of footsteps ascending the great spiral staircase. He opened his eyes and stared expectantly at the door, mentally begging who ever it was to turn around and head back down.

They didn't. The door opened with a click and the lumpy man that had been there when Dumbledore died entered, quickly approaching him. Amycus roughly seized the hands that were tied behind his back, dragging him upwards. Harry suppressed a groan of pain as it shot through his arms and legs as he stood, his legs feeling like sticks of lead as he was roughly forced downstairs.

Amycus lead him straight into the large room where Voldemort sat once again in the large armchair, practically throwing him painfully down to his knees.

"There's something we need you to do Harry," Voldemort said, as though they were discussing this over cups of tea and biscuits.

"No," he replied bluntly, not looking at him.

Voldemort nodded in the direction of Amycus and he stepped forward, slamming his powerful foot into Harry's belly. A loud gasp escaped his unsuspecting lips as he doubled over in pain, clenching his teeth and eyes together.

"Let me re-phrase that Harry. You are going to do something, for the benefit of your pitiful Godfather."

Harry's eyes darted upwards at the mention of Sirius, his painful breathing coming in ragged breaths. Voldemort looked back into his eyes, before nodding again to Amycus. Immediately the lumpy man quickly approached Harry, who tensed his muscles in anticipation, however he simply seized the arms held behind his back, pulling them painfully upwards as he quickly cut through the rope with a swish of his wand, releasing his arms.

Harry drew a quick breath as he gingerly brought his aching arms back round to the front of him, both of them feeling heavy and fragile, the skin on his wrists feeling instant relief.

"Your dear Godfather didn't quite believe us when we said you were still alive. Apparently he seemed quite angry."

Harry refused to meet his eyes, looking only at the grimy ground beneath him.

Voldemort flicked his wand, a small piece of parchment and a quill appeared on the ground infront of him. He then pointed his long wand at Harry, as he spoke.

"You're going to write something on there that only you could know, to give your worthless godfather peace of mind."

Harry looked at the parchment, it was a simple enough task, but there was no way he was going to make anything easy on them.

"No," he replied softly.

"I didn't quite catch that Harry," Voldemort said coldly.

"I said no!" he replied, louder this time as his scar began to ache fiercely from Voldemort's mere presence.

Voldemort rose up from his chair angrily, walking swiftly towards him as he drew his wand. Harry looked up into his cold red eyes as he pointed the wand straight at his face. The pain in his scar increased sharply as Harry eyed the wand, feeling a sense of deja vu.

"I don't think you understand Potter. I could kill you right here."

"You could," Harry agreed. "But you won't."

Voldemort drew back his wand as he stepped away. He raised his wand above his head as Harry immediately tensed his body, knowing what was coming.

"Crucio!"

The all consuming pain wracked his body, his body buckling he screamed from the pain, his lungs feeling fit to burst. He was writhing on the floor, every inch of him screaming for release as Voldemort smiled at the young boy's torment. Harry writhed in agony on the cold floor, subconsciously begging it to stop.

Suddenly as soon as it began it stopped, leaving Harry in a heap on the cold floor, drawing in ragged breaths as he tried to push himself up, his shaking body betraying him.

"Are you going to do it Harry or do I need to ask again?" Voldemort said, almost cheerfully.

Harry clenched his jaw shut as he forced his arms to work, pushing himself back into a half kneeling position. He refused to look at Voldemort, not wanting to look into his cold heartless eyes. His breath came in ragged gasps as he leaned heavily on his shaking left arm, feeling as though he were going to be sick right then and there.

Harry closed his eyes in an attempt to stem his nausea. He couldn't let himself give in, not to Voldemort. But he knew Voldemort would only keep torturing him mercilessly until he gave in, and he couldn't do it. Harry swallowed thickly, hating himself immensely as he nodded his head.

Smiling, Voldemort flicked his wand, the parchment and quill moving along the ground to where Harry knelt, placing itself within his reach. Harry slowly reached out his trembling hand, picking up the quill with his fingers, dimly taking note of the pinkish bruises that had begun forming on his wrists from the rope. He held it for a moment, the quill feeling strangely distant, as though he had never held one before. He racked his brain as he tried to think of something only he would know.

He placed the tip of the feather quill to the parchment, his shaking hands messily scrawling the words Roonil Wazlib. Harry dropped the quill back onto the parchment as though it had burned him, he pushed the parchment away from him as he looked back down at the ground. He had never hated himself more.

"Roonil Wazlib?" Voldemort said adopting the same tone, as if they were discussing it over cups of tea and biscuits.

"It's a long story," Harry replied tonelessly, still looking at the ground.

Amycus, who had remained silent, approached Harry again, picking up the parchment and quill before quickly leaving. Harry heard his footsteps fading away as he left, leaving only he and Voldemort.

"The wards that protect the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Voldemort began.

"How are they broken?"

"Why don't you ask Snape?" Harry spat. "I'm sure he's told you where it is."

"He has," Voldemort agreed. "But only Dumbledore knew how to break the wards."

"Then maybe you should have asked him before you had him killed," Harry retaliated, still looking at the ground.

Harry heard Voldemort stepping slowly towards him, still looking at the ground infront of him he could see the tips of his black shoes at the top of his eyes.

"But he would never have told. He's stronger than you, you'll be telling me everything in a few minutes."

"Well that's a shame, because I don't know," Harry said sarcastically.

Voldemort paused, deciding whether to believe him or not. Harry noticed his breathing had begun to return to normal as he continued looking at the ground wordlessly.

"I hear Dumbledore often left the castle last year. Where did he go?"

Harry laughed grimly to himself, knowing the answer to this question, as he did this his heart gave a small jump.

He doesn't know that Dumbledore destroyed a few horcruxes.

"Tell me where he went!" Voldemort demanded angrily, his loud voice echoing throughout the empty house.

Harry looked up at him with the hint of a smile, eyeing the wand that was now pointed at him again. There was no way he could let himself tell, if he did then all the work Dumbledore had done would be wasted. Harry raised his eyes above the wand, looking into the red eyes of the man who had ruined his life.

"No," he said defiantly.

Voldemort showed no reaction at his words, only drawing his wand back as he prepared himself for the curse he was about to inflict.

"Then you know what's going to happen next."

Harry continued staring into his cold eyes as his heart began pounding with anticipation, yet still holding to his internal promise.

"Crucio!"


	27. Chapter 27

The air was thick with tension the morning Ron Weasley was forced to descend the rickety staircase of his childhood home, entering quietly into the kitchen where his Mother was serving breakfast Hermione a large helping of bacon and eggs.

"Why was I just kicked out of my room?" he said as he scratched his head absentmindedly, his other hand reaching up to rub his tired eyes. Mrs Weasley turned on the spot in shock, her mouth open wide.

"Oh Ronald dear, you're awake!"

"Obviously," he muttered as he took the chair next to Hermione who gave him a small smile.

"Well sit down dear, I'll get you something to eat."

"I'm already sitting mum," he muttered through a soft yawn.

"Sorry dear," she said as she bought the frying pan and a plate over to him, filling it with a hearty breakfast that he would normally scoff down. Ron looked down at the plate as he picked up his knife and fork, and began eating slowly chewing each mouthful while he was lost in thought.

"So why did those Aurors kick me out of my room?" he said after swallowing a mouthful of sausage.

He looked around the table as the faces of everyone there looked at him incredulously.

"Oh you wouldn't know yet," Hermione said after a pause. "The Death Eaters made contact last night."

Ron's mouth dropped open in shock as he put his knife and fork down. Looking towards his mother he said in awe,

"Merlin, what did they say?"

His mother who was once again in the kitchen shook her head to herself as though she had repeated this story many times.

"I don't know exactly what they said, Sirius gave the note to the Aurors before I could see it."

Ron looked around almost frantically, trying to see Sirius, the same question he had just asked on the tip of his tongue.

"Don't bother looking Ron, he's at the ministry," Fred or George said.

"Well what did they say?" Ron said again impatiently.

"They said to wait."

Ron turned around in his chair, his gaze falling upon his second eldest brother Charlie, who was leaning casually against the wall behind him, a new and large burn shining on his lower neck.

"Blimey, when did you get here?"

"A few hours ago," Charlie replied as he stepped forward, squeezing past the table in the cramped kitchen, in order to get himself some breakfast.

"Well what else did they say?" Ron said imploringly.

"Nothing really. But they gave the impression that they can hear us, the whole house is being searched. Hence why you got kicked out of your room."

"Oh," Ron said quietly, looking back down at his plate, not seeing the forced smile Hermione gave him. Charlie sat down on his other side, his plate laden with his own breakfast.

"So how are you going?" Charlie muttered in an undertone to Ron as Ginny entered in the back door, the basket that she was holding full of chicken eggs.

"Here you are mum," she said as she placed the basket on the counter.

"Thankyou dear, now I found that bracelet you were looking for last week, I put it on the mantle for you."

"Thanks," Ginny said, almost sounding half hearted as she left the kitchen in search of the missing bracelet.

"Ron?" Charlie muttered again, nudging his brother whose mind was clearly somewhere else.

"Oh um," Ron began, focusing on the conversation. "I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" Charlie asked, concern growing at his brothers' change of behavior.

"I'm alright," Ron said softly, trying to assure his brother. Ron looked up as George's concerned face fell on his, he quickly looked back down at his plate, wishing everything would go back to normal. He picked up his knife and fork again, cutting the rind off a piece of bacon before placing it into his mouth.

"Mum!" Ginny cried frantically from the living room. "Mum there's something here!"

There was a flourish of wands whipping out and chairs scraping as the kitchen occupants hurried into the living room in response to Ginny's cries, tripping ungraciously over each other and the abandoned chairs. It was Fred who reached her first, taking the piece of parchment she had found out of her shaking hands.

"What is it?" said Hermione as she too reached Ginny, looking her up and down as she began talking at great speed, a stray tear of shock dripping down her face.

"I-It was just on the floor so I picked it up, I didn't know what is was."

"What is it Fred?" Mrs Weasley demanded as she rounded on her daughter, placing an arm around her, pulling her close.

Fred looked up at her from the piece of parchment, not speaking. He handed the offending piece of parchment to his mother, opening his mouth to speak just as the front and back doors burst open, the Aurors who were patrolling outside bursting in with their wands held high.

"It's them isn't it Mum."

Mrs Weasley stared down at the parchment, stony face and pale until she then handed it straight to the closest Auror.

"Yes," she replied, rubbing Ginny's back as the Aurors began barking orders at each other. "It is."

Sirius sat silently with his hands on the table, his fingers subconsciously drumming away to a beat of their of their own. He had been sitting in the Auror Head office for hours as he waited grimly for some sign that his godson might still be alive, as various Aurors popped in and out of the room, all telling him that they still had no leads. He looked out of the window, looking into the busy corridor of the Auror Office as people rushed about, as the flying memos soared above everybody's heads.

He looked back down at the table as he clenched his hands together into a fist, leaning back into his chair as the sudden urge to rock on it came. He had been trying not to think about what Harry might be going through, if he was even alive. But when he did he often wondered if Harry knew something like this was going to happen, if he knew that his life would be put at risk, sort of like what the muggles called 'the sixth sense'.

The order had said beforehand that he needed more protection, but he had said no. He said his godson was old enough to look after himself now. He wished he had just agreed with them now, even if it would have made Harry angry and frustrated, maybe if he had they wouldn't all be in this position.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Auror Baker opened the door silently, stepping inside and closing it behind herself.

"How are you doing?" she asked as she placed a thin folder onto the table before sitting in the chair across from him.

"I've been better," he replied truthfully. Baker smiled understandingly as she pulled her chair in closer, the legs making a horrible scrape on the floor.

"I bought you a coffee, thought you might need it," she said as she placed a paper mug infront of him, opening the folder with her other hand.

"Thanks. Any news?"

"Actually yes," she replied as she riffled through the paper in the folder, coming to the page she wanted. She took out the page and put it on the table infront of him.

"We are pretty certain that your godson is alive."

Sirius looked at the small sized piece of parchment that was sealed securely in a plastic wrapping, his heart leaping as he read the words Roonil Wazlib.

"That's Harry's writing," he said uncertainly, looking up as Baker nodded.

"Roonil Wazlib? What does that mean?"

Baker looked back down at the folder, taking another piece of parchment and holding it up a little, reading the words that were written there.

"Ron Weasley gave a brief statement about this. Apparently last term at school his 'self spelling quill' malfunctioned and his name turned into Roonil Wazlib, which turned into a kind of joke between he and Harry."

Sirius sighed with relief as he relaxed back into his chair, not completely sure what to make of this. Seeing his uncertainty Baker opened her mouth to explain.

"Sirius this is a very good sign. We now know that Harry is alive, conscious and is still able to think reasonably clearly. These are all very good signs."

Sirius nodded his head, the impact of her words taking time to fully settle in. Not wanting to get his hopes up too much, he began to say,

"So did they make any demands?"

"Two, and they're not unexpected either." She again flipped through the folder infront of her, taking a larger piece of parchment that was also sealed in plastic wrapping and handing it to Sirius also. Sirius looked down at the parchment with apprehension, not entirely sure if he really wanted to see it.

You will give full media coverage providing the public with detailed information as to what the ministry is doing in it's attempt to free Potter. That includes newspaper, magazines and radio. You will also give a full media conference where the head of the Auror department will make a full statement and answer any questions. You have 48 hours.

Sirius looked up, letting out the tense breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Why would they want all this?"

"It's simple really, they're testing how far we are willing to go. Normally in kidnap cases we try to keep as much as possible out of the media, try to keep things quiet so that important information isn't leaked out."

"But don't they have spies in the ministry though? Couldn't they find out easily enough?"

"Yes and no. As you know this investigation has been kept very under wraps, so not many spies would hear about the investigations, mainly just rumors. But yes, with the right sources they could find out, which is part of the reason they want this. They want to know how truthful we are going to be when we follow demands."

Sirius nodded, beginning to understand a little more.

"But why would they want a conference if it's going to be plastered all over the news papers and radio?"

"We think the conference is mainly to put added pressure on the office, and hope that we might slip up and reveal something important. There are probably many reasons to these demands, but we just need to focus on fulfilling them."

"So what do you need to me do?" Sirius asked as he picked up the coffee, feeling the warmth through the cup. Baker again flipped through her folder, quickly finding her place.

"Not too much really. The Daily Prophet will need a recent photograph of Harry and you may need to give a statement yourself at the conference tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning?" he asked in dismay. "Why are we waiting that long, what about today?"

"They've given us 48 hours so we need to take advantage of that. We also need ample time to organize some things and get some people together. But if all goes to plan there will be a front page article in the Evening Prophet tonight, just to let them know that we understand what they want."

Sirius nodded, silently disagreeing with having to wait for so long. He looked back down at the smaller piece of parchment that Harry had written on, a small part of him jumping for joy while a larger part was filled with doubt. What if they had killed him after he wrote this, what if somebody forged it?

"Sirius?"

He looked up, worry etched over his lined face.

"Just take this one step at a time. Things could be a lot worse."

He looked back down at the parchment, hoping she was right as he nodded silently.


	28. Chapter 28

The skin on Harry's wrist had begun to bleed lightly, small bubbles of blood caused by the harsh rope smearing along his wrists. He ignored the stinging pain as he continued struggling against the bonds that held his hands behind his back, trying desperately to release himself, simply to make his arms and shoulders stop aching. Every movement he made sent small jolts of pain through his arms, shoulders and back, yet he convinced himself that it was working, that he was going to get out of this mess.

Merlin, Sirius must be going insane, he thought to himself bitterly as he continued working at the ropes, his cold fingers clumsily trying to untie the knots.

He sighed to himself as he leant back against the cold wall again, exhaustion and hunger had been taking their toll on his body and he had never felt this tired or weak. He wanted so much to just lie down on the hard stone floor and close his eyes, letting sleep take over his body and mind. He closed his sore eyes for just a moment as he let his mind wander back to Ginny, whom he had thought of so much the last few days.

That's the problem with isolation, Harry thought to himself as he relaxed his hands. It gives you time to think.

He had thought so much about everybody the last few days, but no one as much as Ginny. She especially was on his mind all the time. He had been trying to remember the last thing he had said to her, the last time he had kissed her. Little things that had then seemed so trivial, but now seemed so important. He sighed as he tried to remember when they had last kissed, he knew he shouldn't let it bother him, but he couldn't stop it.

"Great," he muttered softly to himself. "I'm going to die and I can't remember our last kiss."

Immediately he stopped and opened his eyes, shocked at what he had said. He bit his lip as he closed his eyes again, thinking fiercely to himself, I am not going to die. He sighed softly as the urge to begin pacing became present. The need to be doing something with his hands was back again, so he began fiddling with the ropes around his wrists, once again ignoring the pain of the rope rubbing against broken skin.

Harry furrowed his brow in an attempt to lessen the burning sensation in his scar, to lessen the pounding headache that had resulted from the many blows and dehydration. He painfully pulled his feet toward himself, scrunching up his toes in effort to keep them warm. Another storm had begun brewing outside, the icy cold draft creeping into the derelict room, chilling every inch of him.

Harry's eyes snapped open as the door creaked loudly, another tall Death Eater stepping into the room. Harry looked towards the ground as he groaned internally, he hadn't even heard them ascending the great spiral staircase. He couldn't see their face, but whoever it was roughly seized his hands and a fist full of hair, dragging him unceremoniously into a standing position. They released his hair and pressed their wand painfully into the small of his back as they walked.

Harry's scar began to burn even more painfully as Voldemort came into view, sitting once again in the only chair present. He was pushed painfully onto his knees, staring at the ground as he heard Voldemort stand from his chair, his footsteps echoing as he walked casually around Harry.

"Your wrists look sore Harry," he said, his voice sounding almost concerned. "I do hope you haven't been struggling against those ropes."

Harry said nothing, he continued staring at the ground as he waited for the inevitable. Voldemort stopped walking and stood infront of Harry, staring down at him as Harry's scar began to burn even more fiercely. Subconsciously Harry screwed his face up a little, trying to block out the pain. Seeing this Voldemort laughed softly to himself.

"I'm going to let you in on a few secrets Harry," Voldemort continued casually as he turned away and sat back down.

"Well don't waste your breath."

"Aren't you at all curious to know how my Death Eaters broke through those wards?"

"Strangely I've had other things on my mind," Harry spat nastily. Immediately somebody took a fistful of his hair, holding him steady as another slammed their foot into his ribs, a loud gasp passing over his lips as all the breath left his body. They released his hair as he bent over double, screwing his face up as he forced himself to take a painful breath, a breath that seemed rattle every rib.

"Well don't worry Harry," Voldemort continued, as though nothing had happened. "You'll find this very interesting."

"Somehow I doubt that," Harry muttered under his breath. He knew his words would infuriate Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but he no longer cared.

"Well it seems you have what I would call a traitor in your midst."

Harry looked up, not knowing if he should believe him or not. Seeing his face Voldemort laughed outloud, the sound chilling Harry to the bone more than the cold weather.

"Oh you didn't know? My my this will be fun. Well let's think for a minute shall we? Name one person that you know, who would be passing important information along to Death Eaters."

Harry's eyes darted back down to the stone floor, refusing to answer the question, refusing to fall into his web of lies.

"Heard from Percy lately?"

Harry jerked his head up instantly, looking at Voldemort wide eyed.

"You're lying," he accused without even thinking.

"Try telling that to Weasley. We've been black mailing him for months."

"No!" Harry said in horror, not wanting to believe what he was being told. "You're lying."

"How can you be so sure Harry?" Voldemort replied, standing up again and approaching him.

"Percy wouldn't-"

"Yes he would," Voldemort said, raising his voice in anger. "Weasley is a brainless twit with no backbone to speak of. You won't believe how easy it is to use him. And he's perfect. He has a good name, a high position in the ministry, and he's been helping me in my recent attempts to get to you."

Voldemort towered over him as he continued softly.

"Haven't you yet questioned what caused the car accident that nearly killed your uncle?"

"That was you?" Harry said quietly, not realizing he even knew about it.

"Mostly," Voldemort began. "There wasn't much to do once your uncle got behind the wheel. Let's just say that Percy had to help us to…speed things up a little."

"He wouldn't do that!" Harry said angrily, trying to convince himself that Percy was not a traitor, that Percy would assist in that kind of thing.

"Wouldn't he? Try telling that to his brother Ron."

Harry fell silent, looking at Voldemort with nothing but pure hatred. Voldemort crouched down so that they were eye to eye, the physical closeness of them making his scar sear even more, making him feel as though his head would split.

"Oh sorry, my mistake," Voldemort said with a smile. "It's too late to tell him."

"Shut up," Harry said instantly, not caring about consequences.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Voldemort said as he stood up, unaffected by his words.

"I said shut up!" Harry said again, his raised voice echoing throughout the large house.

"You see Harry I don't think you fully understand the nature of your position."

Voldemort stepped away from him, drawing out his long wand from his robes.

"I can cause you more pain than you ever thought possible. And there's nothing you can do about it."

"Go on then," Harry challenged, trying to distract himself from the thought that Ron might actually be dead.

"It's nothing new," he continued lowly, looking straight at Voldemort. Voldemort raised his eyebrows with the hint of a smile.

"Do you mean to say that you are getting bored of our techniques here Harry? We can soon change that for you, we can't have our guest getting bored."

Harry looked down at the floor again, trying to process within his mind all the information that had been forced upon him. Suddenly Voldemort quickly crouched down infront of him, taking Harry's chin in his hand, pulling his face up towards his own. Harry clenched his jaw together, trying to stop himself from yelling out at the sudden agony.

"Is that a flicker of fear I detect?" Voldemort asked, his voice low and menacing.

Harry pulled his face out of the tight grip, turning his head away so that he didn't have to look at him. His breaths were shallow and uneven as the pain slowly relinquished, he clenched his eyes shut momentarily as he tried to make himself breathe properly, all the while feeling as though he might break down like a five-year old. Voldemort stood up, flicking his wand at Harry, the quick charm severing the ropes that bound Harry's hands together.

Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief as he gingerly bought his hands back around to his front, flinching at the sores and smeared blood he found on his wrists.

"Let's try something new shall we?"

Harry tried to ignore him, he refused to answer. It made no difference though, he barely had time to look up before Voldemort cast the non-verbal curse upon him.

He cried out loudly, as a great pain shot horizontally across the skin of his upper back. His body collapsed sideways until he was supporting himself by his hands, his jaws tightly clenched together as the pain refused to subside. He could hear Voldemort and the two Death Eaters watching laugh as he gasped again, the pain still present and not lessening.

"How was that Harry? Something new?" Voldemort asked in a mocking voice, before flicking his wand again.

Another painful yell escaped from his mouth as he felt the pain shooting across the middle of his back again, as he felt the small trickling of blood running down his back. He tensed his body as he gasped again from the second, the pain from the first still present also. He couldn't take it, he let out a great shuddering breath and made fists with his hands as he waited desperately for the pain to subside.

Harry looked up momentarily, flinching as he saw Voldemort raising his wand again. Another quill and small piece of parchment appeared instantly infront of him, just as it had early that morning. Harry looked up at Voldemort questioningly.

"You know what to do."

"And if I don't?" he asked, his voice shaking from the pains in his back.

"I'm sure you've figured that out by now."

Harry looked back down at the parchment and quill, desperately wanting to throw them in Voldemort's face and refuse to write anything, but he knew he couldn't, he wouldn't be able to stand much more of this.

He picked up the quill, his hand trembling as he messily scrawled the name of the Quidditch magazine Sirius had given him, The Pitch. He pushed the parchment away from himself, dropping the quill onto it with his shaking hand.

"Another long story I suppose?" Voldemort said.

Harry nodded, still staring at the ground.

"Well get used to it, you'll be doing it a lot," Voldemort said coldly, turning away to stand infront of the raging fireplace to Harry's right.

"Take him upstairs," he said to the two Death Eaters.

He barely paid attention as he was again dragged back upstairs, his hands fastened tightly behind his back again. The marble stairs were cold beneath his feet as they quickly ascended the stairs, his back still feeling incredibly painful. The two Death Eaters quickly dumped him in the same room, the cold draft still seeping in through the boarded up windows.

He forced himself into a more comfortable position, sitting upright against the wall. Harry closed his eyes as he tensed his back up, trying to deaden the pain that was not subsiding. He took in a deep breath, the oxygen reaching his brain, calming him a little now that he seemed to be thinking straight. Tentatively he slipped his bound hands up the back of his bloodstained shirt, feeling hesitantly for the source of his pain. He flinched as his fingertips found a shallow, but painful cut which ran the horizontal length of his back. He felt the thin tear in his shirt that also ran the length of his back, slightly damp with a little blood.

He sighed and leant back fully against the cold wall as he heard the growl of distant thunder. Harry bought his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them as he tried to think clearly, tried to make sense of what Voldemort had said. Did he really believe what he had said about Percy? Sure Percy can be a real prat, but he'd never pass information to the wrong people would he? Could he really betray his family in such a way?

At this thought his mind raced back to Ron, his heart immediately becoming heavy, sinking down to a spot somewhere around his naval. Harry closed his eyes gently as he raised his head, sitting up straight. Hot tears prickled behind his closed eyes, as the desire to vent his frustration onto something became present, growing at an alarming rate. Harry clenched his eyes tighter together in attempt to stop any tears before suddenly throwing his head back, hitting it hard against the hard wall.

"He's not dead," Harry muttered to himself as he hit his head against the wall again, feeling a grim satisfaction every time he did so.

"He's not dead…he's not dead…he's not dead…"

He hit his head once more, not caring about the headache he would soon get, only glad that he atleast had something to vent his frustration and anger onto, even if it did quite hurt. Slowly, he released the breath he didn't know that he was holding, trying to think of a way to get out of here. All he could think of was the note he was supposedly going to be writing everyday, proving to everybody that he was still alive. Maybe he could somehow tell them where he was through that.

Harry laughed bitterly at this. "Yeah as if," he muttered.

He sighed softly again, thankful that when he opened his eyes no 'tell tale' tears fell.

"He really does have the knack for annoying the shit out of me," Harry muttered almost silently to himself, referring to Voldemort. Suddenly the fake hate mail he had written earlier that summer held a new purpose.

"Marvolo," Harry scoffed to himself. "What kind of name is Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

He laughed silently to himself for a moment, relishing in the fact that he could say what ever he wanted before sudden realization struck him, like the bolt of lightning on his forehead. He leant forward slightly, eyes wide, forgetting all about Percy, Ron and the pain in his back, swearing quietly as things began to fall into place in his minds eye.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle…" he muttered to himself again. He bit his lip, wondering if he could do it, if he would have enough time or energy. It was normally Hermione who thought of such ridiculous, yet logical plans such as this.

"…anagram for 'Little Hangleton…"

Mrs Weasley sighed as she absent-mindedly studied the remnants of her cup of tea, swirling the tealeaves around. It was now late afternoon, and she knew that she ought to begin preparing dinner for her family and guests, yet she seemed to have no energy, the desire to cook and provide for everybody seemed pointless to her. The lack of Harry's presence in her household, the fact that he was probably in pain seemed to rob her of all desire for anything normal.

She again raised her eyes, looking towards the kitchen where she knew she should be directing potatoes to self-peel, directing a large knife the begin cutting the large pumpkin that sat innocently on the bench. She lowered her eyes again as she heard the front door open, then close again quietly. It now did this exactly every hour, when the two Aurors keeping watch over their home swapped shifts, each of them returning to head office.

"Mrs Weasley?"

Mrs Weasley raised her head at the unfamiliar voice, looking into the eyes of a tall dark haired junior Auror.

"Oh yes dear? Beginning your shift?" she said conversationally. The Auror nodded as he held out his hand to her.

"Angus Robertson, I don't believe we've met."

Taking his hand, she gripped it kindly as they shook hands.

"I don't believe we have. You must work with Tonks do you?"

"Yes I do," he replied, putting his hands into his pockets. "She mentioned she was going to stop by this evening."

"Oh ok," she said as she smiled genuinely.

"I'll be outside keeping watch with Jones if you need us at all."

"Thankyou dear," Mrs Weasley replied as he exited through the back door, his hands still in his pockets.

Mrs Weasley sighed as she again looked down into her teacup. She raised it to her lips, pulling a face as she drank the remaining cold tea. She placed the teacup gently back onto its saucer as she stood up from her place at the dining room table. Mrs Weasley slowly walked back into the kitchen, placing the cup and saucer into the stone sink as she closed her eyes, breathing in deeply as she allowed herself a few fantasizing moments where everything was back to normal. Fantasizing moments where Arthur would still be at work, where her children and their two friends would be running around annoying each other.

She reluctantly opened her eyes, looking out the kitchen window into her family's large backyard, the chickens wandering around in their enclosure. It seemed strange how the world outside could still be functioning normally while her own home was not. Still that had probably changed when the ministry went public about Harry's disappearance this afternoon, no doubt this evenings Prophet would be filled with front page articles, theories, accusations and anything else that they could come up with. Hermione had already told her of how it was all over the wireless.

Molly Weasley took a deep breath inwards, feeling the oxygen reaching her head, clearing it a little. Reluctantly she turned away from the sink and headed into the living area. She began tidying up a little, straightening the cushions, and the throw rug that hung over the back of the lounge. She straightened the aging coffee table infront of the fireplace noticing for the first time, the brightly colored something underneath her house slippers.

She bent down and picked up the broken balloon which had been bouncing around the living area the night of Harry's party, it's color now frozen halfway between purple and orange. She turned it over in her aging hands, seeing the large rip that had formed when the twins had popped the balloons.

Hot tears prickled behind her eyes as she looked at the broken balloon. She sat down heavily onto the lounge as she allowed a few stray tears to escape her eyes. She sniffled loudly as she withdrew her handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing at the tears on her face, taking a shaky breath as she tried to compose herself before somebody came downstairs. She sniffled again as she closed her eyes, her heart heavy with sadness and fear. Molly Weasley breathed in deeply again as the voices of the two Aurors from outside drifted in through the open window.

"Come on Jonsy, be realistic."

Mrs Weasley opened her eyes as she looked towards the open window as the two Aurors stood casually, not realizing how close they were to the open window.

"Potter doesn't stand a chance, not against them."

"Seriously Gus," replied the second Auror, a female with platinum blonde hair. "Have a bit of faith."

"You saw what happened," said Robertson, referring to the memory that Ron had been coerced into giving to the Auror Department, the memory that showed them exactly what had happened the night Harry was taken.

"There was blood all through the house. For Merlin's sake the kid was stabbed, jumped off the roof, then nearly bled to death in the front yard. If he didn't die then he's dead now."

"We know he's alive, they proved it," replied Jones, her blonde hair flicking to the side as she turned her head to face him.

"Anyone could have copied his handwriting, it's been done before."

Mrs Weasley clenched her fists together, before realizing it she had stood up and was stalking her way to the front door. Anger bubbled up inside her at the Aurors words as she forcefully opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch.

"I'm telling you. This investigation's a waste of time."

Mrs Weasley walked down front steps, the creaks alerting the two Aurors to her presence.

"Out!" she growled in her anger, looking straight at Robertson who only five minutes ago had been nice as pie.

Realization struck the young mans face as he opened his mouth to explain, however he didn't get the chance.

"Get out!" Mrs Weasley growled again as she began to brandish her wand, a few blue sparks erupting from the end of it.

Stuttering he began, "I can't, somebody has to be here at all times."

"Send someone else!" she growled again. "But get out!"

He nodded as he immediately began walking at great speed towards the perimeter, kicking himself mentally for not realizing somebody was there, knowing full well that the senior Aurors would not be happy with this.

"I'm so sorry Mrs Weasley," the young blonde she now knew as Jones said, stepping backwards as she began to follow her fellow Auror.

Mrs Weasley's head snapped back towards her, her face softening instantly as she looked at her.

"No that's quite all right dear, you can stay if you need to," she replied as she lowered her wand, her hands shaking a little. Jones nodded, seemingly unsure of what to say or do next.

"I'll just be inside if you need me at all dear," she said as she quickly headed back inside, the anger and fury quickly building up inside of her. Mrs Weasley headed straight into the kitchen where she began pulling out pots and pans, her wand forcefully directing various vegetables and cooking utensils to various places. The potatoes began self-peeling while a large knife began chopping the pumpkin. Mrs Weasley took out a small knife and began furiously peeling an onion as she felt small tear begin to roll down her face, tears that were unrelated to the onion.

"How dare he say such things," Mrs Weasley muttered to herself quietly as she tried to justify her actions to herself.

"…has no faith at all…"

She sniffled again as she heard quick footsteps coming down the stairs, the sound becoming louder as the person entered the kitchen.

"What happened Molly? I heard shouting," came the anxious voice of Sirius, who had returned a few hours ago.

"Oh nothing dear, just starting dinner," she said quietly.

"Is everything ok? You're crying."

She looked up at Sirius, smiling through her tears.

"Oh it's nothing, just the onions."

Sirius looked at her tear stained face, not knowing what to say to her. He looked at the large piece of pumpkin and the knife that was haphazardly slicing it. He took the handle of the knife in his hand, stopping the charm from working as he began slicing through the hard pumpkin, the pieces now more evenly sized.

A few hours later the Weasley family, Remus, Sirius and Hermione sat together around the dining room table, slowly eating the delicious roast meal that had been prepared. They sat in almost silence just as they had at breakfast and lunch, the only sounds were the clinking of knives and forks.

Everybody seemed to be lost in their own thought, their own private battle that raged through their minds as they once again waited for the Death Eaters to make more contact. It was Wednesday evening, making it three days since anyone there had seen Harry, three days that he had been a captive of Lord Voldemort.

Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of a large fart that seemed to echo throughout The Burrow. Every body looked straight towards George, who had turned bright red from trying to hold in his laughter. Shaking with silent laughter his raised his head uncertainly, looking around at the many eyes peering at him.

"It was him," he choked out and he pointed towards Fred who was sitting on his left. Immediately Fred perked up in dismay.

"It was not!"

George clutched his stomach as he began laughing outloud, his laughter seeming to infect everybody else at the previously silent dinner table, causing them too to begin laughing.

"It was not! Own up to your farts!"

"That's disgusting George!" Bill said loudly, pulling a face as the awful smell wafted over to him.

"George Weasley!" his mother exclaimed in shock, though laughing at the same time.

"I'm not related to you," Ginny said loudly.

George sniggered before farting again, louder this time. "Merlin that feels better!"

The table erupted again, the sounds of their laughter drifting outside to the two Aurors who were patrolling.

"I'm not related to you either!" Charlie said putting his knife and fork down in disgust.

George looked around as he clutched his stomach, which was now painful from laughter. He looked around the table as the laughter slowly died down, his eyes passing over his father whose face was also bright red, to Ron who had tears of laughter in his eyes. George smiled again, glad that the secretly hidden Weasley Wizard Wheezes Whoopee Cushion could provide some relief during a tense moment.


	29. Chapter 29

Chosen One in Death Eater hands.  
Auror Department confirms suspicions.

Early yesterday evening the Head of the Auror Office Giles Corey gave an official statement which confirmed the worst fears of many. 17 year old Harry Potter has indeed been at the mercy of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his growing band of Death Eaters, for three days.

In response to the growing concern and hysteria that has grown steadily since the kidnap late last Sunday, Giles Corey today gave an exclusive press conference in which he and Sirius Black spoke openly to reporters, confirming that there were still no leads in the investigation.

"Rest assured that we are doing everything we can to bring him [Potter] back home to his family safely. This investigation is of highest priority," said Corey during this afternoon's conference.

The Ministry of Magic may soon be facing a full inquiry as to why the wizard most desired by You-Know-Who was not given full Ministry protection.

"The Ministry should have been protecting him," said an anonymous wizard. "And now they're sitting on their bottoms wondering what to do!"

For a full transcript of today's press conference and further information, turn to pages 2, 3, 4 and 5.

Sirius threw the Evening _Prophet_ onto the coffee table in anger, not even bothering to turn the page in order to read more. He leant forward on the couch, resting his chin on his hand as he stared blankly into the fireplace, the roaring fire illuminating the darkened lounge room. He breathed in deeply as he tried to rid his mind of all thought of Harry, as he tried to think of something else for a change.

His eyes flicked down towards the newspaper sitting innocently on the coffee table, his godson smiling up at him from the cover. The corners of Sirius' mouth turned upwards slightly as he looked at the front page picture of Harry and Ron. The two friends waved happily up at him, both of them looking thoroughly windswept and joyful after the hectic game of Quidditch they had played on his birthday.

Sirius silently scoffed at the caption underneath which read: The still missing Harry Potter with close friend Ronald Weasley, who is allegedly involved in his ordeal.

'Makes it sound as though Ron did it," Sirius muttered as he sat up a little, before turning sideways and lying down on the comfortable lounge, relaxing his exhausted mind and body. He had opted to stay in front of the couch, fearing that more contact would be made, and no one would be there to receive the note they were expecting. Sirius raised his arm and placed it above his head, turning his head to the side so that he could relax even more deeply into the couch. He could feel himself drifting off into a restless sleep as his mind wandered aimlessly back to the conference at the ministry, early that afternoon.

*Flash Back *

Sirius stood nervously to the side as camera's flashed, puffs of smoke emitting from the older models as the many journalists crowded at the front of the small podium, each desperate to have their questions answered. He watched quietly as some people stood patiently at the back, holding their magical tape recorders high in the air as they recorded the words being spoken, hoping for any juicy news that they could broadcast over the even news on the wireless.

Giles Corey had been standing on the temporary stage in the ministry atrium for a little over 5 minutes as journalists fired him with questions, most of which he answered calmly in a matter of fact way, other's that he deemed to confidential he brushed off with a simple 'No comment.' Sirius wondered dimly how he had been able to stand it, but reasoned that he had probably grown accustomed to it, being the Head of Auror Department. However this did nothing to stem the growing nervousness he felt at having to stand up there in his place, answering his own set of question.

It's for Harry, he reminded himself as he briefly looked down at the stone floor. You have to do this. But what if he made a mistake, what if he gave away crucial information? Then again there wasn't much chance of that, given that he had basically no idea what the Aurors were up to. He raised his eyes back up to Corey, listening intently as another journalist fired a question at him.

"Has anybody spoken with Potter since his disappearance?"

Corey looked confidently at the many reporters, many of whom we holding self-writing quills in front of them in anticipation.

"There has been no verbal communication with Potter yet, but we are greatly hoping for the chance to do so."

"So there's no real proof that he's alive."

"As I have previously stated, there had been forms of communication that we believe prove that he is still alive. Just this morning we received more confirmation that he is still alive."

"What kind of confirmation?" another yelled out at him over the voices that had raised themselves again.

Corey paused, considering the effect that this question might possibly have. "We have so far received two hand written notes that confirm his status. The hand writing was matched perfectly to that of Potter's, and both the notes were phrases that only the real Harry Potter could have known."

Sirius looked back down at these words, remembering the second note they had received late that morning. Relief beyond words had rushed through him as he read the words: The Pitch, knowing instantly what Harry meant. There had been nothing else, no further demands, Baker had said they were probably waiting for them to finish the first task that was set for them.

Noise broke out again as he finished, reporters yelling above each other as he pointed to a raised hand towards that back.

"Sir," they began. "Rumors tell us that throughout the crime scene there was substantial damage, and evidence that tells us Potter was injured. Was he hurt badly?"

Once again Corey paused, considering again more deeply, the possible impact of such a question.

"Yes, we believe him to have been injured. How badly, I cannot say."

"Sir! Sir! If you would, please confirm or deny the rumor that a close friend of Potter's, Ronald Weasley, was involved. If so, in what way was he involved?"

"Yes, Ronald Weasley was indeed involved. We believe that he was used as bait, the kidnapper threatened to kill him if Potter did not comply."

"Where is Weasley now?"

"He is at home with his family, taking some time out."

Voices rang through the crowded atrium as journalists again fired more questions, their voices creating echoes throughout the large room. Corey held up his hand and they instantly quieted.

"I'm sorry that's all I have time for at the moment, however let me introduce Mr Sirius Black, Godfather of Harry. He's here also to answer a few of your questions."

Sirius took a deep breath as he stepped forward, the faces of many curious journalists who had not noticed him turned his way, and they immediately began shouting questions his way. He walked forward, stepping up onto the raised stage as the many flashes of cameras threatened to temporarily blind him. He looked out to all the frantic journalists, each one of them desperate to get his attention.

He raised his hand and pointed to a tall witch at the back, whose flushed face filled with instant relief.

"Mr Black, do you know who took your Godson?"

"Uhh," he began, his mind racing. "We don't know exactly who it was, but we know that it definitely was a Death Eater."

Immediately noise broke out again, voices being raised in their want to be heard, in their need to be chosen. However not even two minutes later, a Ministry official to the right of the stage stepped forward slightly, saying loudly,

"Last question ladies and gents."

Sirius breathed an internal sigh of relief as the crowd of people seemed to go wild, desperate to ask the final question. He looked around, then pointed to a wizard in the middle of the crowd.

"Mr Black, if Harry could hear you right now, what would you say to him?"

Sirius let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, pausing before he answered the question with the first honest thing that came to mind.

"I'd tell him to get his arse back home before I ground him."

A small murmur ran through the crowd before they again started firing questions at him, in the hope that they would be answered. He ignored them as he stepped off stage, weaving his way through the junior Aurors who were there to stop the journalists following anyone. He breathed a sigh of relief.

*END FLASHBACK *

Sirius quickly fell into a restless sleep, the exhaustion from the previous days catching up with him finally. He barely stirred as Mrs Weasley came down stairs and tucked a thick woolen blanket tightly around his sleeping figure, her eyes falling on the newspaper he had been looking at. She picked it up and smoothed it flat, looking at it lovingly as the two boys in the picture grinned up at her, their hair windswept and messy.

Mrs Weasley sniffled as quietly as possible, putting the newspaper back onto the table before heading back upstairs, her tartan slippers scuffing on the carpet slightly.

Harry's heart pounded wildly as he paused to take another glance at the parchment and quill before him. He knew that they would want him to write another message, he had just hoped that there would be more time beforehand. However he knew what he had to do, he knew how to do it, yet doubt again trickled into his mind, filling him with fear. What if he had gotten it wrong? What if the Death Eaters figured out what he was trying to do?

His shaking hand reached out for the quill, picking it up and fiddling with it momentarily. His frozen fingers shook slightly as he placed the tip of the quill onto the parchment as he began to write.

'Hell tattling one' he wrote, the quill scratching along the parchment with every letter. He dropped the quill onto the parchment and pushed them both away, praying to Merlin that this would work. It had probably taken him hours to figure out how to re-arrange the letters of 'Little Hangleton' in his head, always forgetting what letters he had left. He now watched dimly from the corner of his eyes as a blurry someone flicked their wand, sending the quill and the parchment flying towards them, before turning away to send the unknown secret message.

"Well Harry, it's just gone midnight," Voldemort said from the comfort of his chair. "Friday morning, the start of your fifth day here."

Harry breathed an internal sigh of relief, relieved that Voldemort had not questioned the strangeness of his note. He breathed in softly, the lacerations on his back stinging with the small movement of his chest. He continued looking at the stone floor, as if he were fascinated with the intricate patterns.

"So Harry," Voldemort began, staring down at him. "Do I need to ask you again, or are you going to tell me?"

"I'm not telling you anything," Harry spat coldly, before his body was once again wracked with pain. He could hear himself screaming as he collapsed sideways onto the floor, the pain of the Cruciatus curse reached every inch of him. He couldn't think, he could barely breathe.

Suddenly it stopped, and he lay on the floor, breathing heavily as though he had just run a marathon. He clenched his eyes shut as he tried to sit up, his trembling arms almost giving way. He pushed himself up so that he was on his knees, though leaning heavily on his weakening arms, his breath coming in short ragged gasps.

"Tell me about the prophecy," Voldemort said shortly.

"Merlin," Harry said, suddenly feeling rebellious. "I really don't remember."

"You do remember."

"But it was so long ago," Harry said comically, as though he were an old man reminiscing his childhood.

"Tell me about the prophecy," Voldemort said, a little more forcefully.

"Hmmm," Harry said as though in deep thought. "No."

Voldemort flicked his wand at him, causing him to again cry out sharply as great pain shot across his back, the curse cutting at his skin and tearing at his already ruined shirt. He clenched his teeth together as the pain did not reside, as his newest cut began burning along with the others, whose pain had slowly begun to diminish in the last few hours.

"Would you like to rephrase that?" Voldemort said coldly from his chair, not batting an eyelid at the boys' pain.

"Sorry was I not clear enough?" Harry forced out. "I'm not telling you a thing."

He cried out again as the expected pain shot across his back again, burning along with the others as he felt small trickles of blood leaving his wound. His fingers curled into fists as he tensed his muscles, trying to hold back a gasp of pain while the few Death Eaters around him laughed softly.

"Tell me, now," Voldemort said again, anger rising inside of him.

"No!" Harry said loudly, his voice echoing around the large empty house.

Voldemort stood as he flicked his wand again, the new cut causing Harry's elbows to buckle slightly as he fought to keep himself upright, gasping loudly as he tried to hold it all in. He again clenched his teeth together as he groaned softly.

"Potter my patience is wearing very thin," Voldemort said loudly as he stepped closer to Harry. He could now clearly see the purple bruises and dried blood that lay upon his face, the red and bleeding wrists from where the rope had burnt him, and now the broken skin on his back and the heavily blood stained shirt that mostly lay in tatters. He felt no pity for him.

"Really?" Harry replied through his clenched teeth. "I hadn't noticed at all."

"I wouldn't push me Potter," he replied as he flicked his wand again.

He yelled out again, louder this time as the curse painfully criss-crossed the other wounds on his back. A loud groan of pain escaped his lips as he struggled to breathe in and out without worsening the pain.

"Really? What are you going to do if I do keep pushing?" Harry asked with a smirk as he drew in another shuddering and painful breath.

"I will eventually kill you, but let's just say I'll stick with our current methods," Voldemort said, his wand still menacingly pointed at Harry.

"Of course," Harry replied, raising his head to look Voldemort in the eye. "Because that's working so well for you now isn't it."

"Crucio!"

Harry's arms buckled as he again collapsed to the floor, every part of him feeling as though it were on fire. He screamed loudly as he writhed in pain, his head felt like it would split for sure.

He was quickly released from his agony, and he lay on his side, gasping for air as his throat felt as though it would tear from his screams. He relaxed his fingers momentarily, not noticing the half-moon shapes his nails had made. Harry again tried to breathe in, but was suddenly overcome with heavy coughs that wracked his body, coughs that aggravated his many wounds and bruises. His coughs slowly subsided as Voldemort turned silently on the spot, before sitting down in the chair.

"Where did Dumbledore go when he was absent from Hogwarts?" Voldemort asked, wondering if a change of subject would change the boys' mind.

"I'm not telling you anything," Harry snarled, his throat burning with every word. "Can't you take a hint?"

"Apparently not," Voldemort said calmly as he again raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

Jennifer Baker lay fast asleep in her husband's warm embrace when a sudden insistent tapping slowly aroused her from her slumber. She opened her eyes blearily, laying still for a few moments as her brain slowly began to register the tapping. Suddenly she was wide awake, her pulse quickening a little as she raised her head off the pillow, blinking her blurry eyes until they came into focus.

With a sigh, she propped herself up onto her elbows as her eyes wandered her cramped bedroom for the source of the noise. They quickly found it, her eyes falling on the window where a tawny owl had perched itself on the windowsill outside, and was now tapping insistently. She flopped herself back down onto the pillow as she raised a hand to rub her eyes, working herself up to getting out of her warm bed.

She threw back the blanket and gently lifted her husband's arm off her stomach, quietly getting up from her bed. Baker grumpily made her way over to the window as she rubbed the tops of her arms, the soles of her feet feeling as though they hadn't been used in years. She quietly opened the window, holding her arm out for the owl to jump onto. It did, its claws tracing pink marks onto her wrist as she fumbled with the string attached to the parchment, slowly undoing the knot.

She pulled the folded up parchment from the owl's leg before letting it back out the window, watching for a moment as it spread its large wings and flew back up into the night sky. Baker closed the window as she unfolded the note. She held it up high, reading the messy scrawl by the moonlight that shone through the window.

Baker, we have a lead on the Potter case. Come straight to Headquarters immediately, conference room 3.  
Kingsley.

Baker grumpily crumbled up the note as she looked at the clock that read 2:17. She sighed softly as she dumped the note on her bedside table, picking up the clothing she had worn the previous day and quickly throwing it on and stuffing her wand into her cloak pocket.

"Jen?"

Baker turned her gaze to her husband, whose curious eyes looked her up and down.

"Where are you going?"

She sat down on the edge of her bed as she pulled on some shoes and socks, replying as she did so.

"I've been called into work. It's important."

"Is it that Potter boy?" he mumbled.

"Yeah."

Baker stood up as she straightened the blankets on her side of the bed, leaning over to kiss her husband on the cheek.

"I'll try not to be too long."

"OK," he mumbled as he pulled the blanket over himself again, grateful for the opportunity to spread out across the whole bed.

Baker quickly left her cramped room and crept into the hallway, stopping only to swear under her breath as her toes kicked a child's toy that she had not seen. She picked it up and paused slightly at the open door of her daughter's room. She placed the toy just on the inside of the door as her gaze fell upon her sleeping daughter. She quietly pulled the door half shut, the wooden plaque on the door that read Amber's Room swung gently.

She quickly slipped out, shutting the front door behind her as quietly as possible, before heading towards the elevator of their Muggle apartment block. Once outside she quickly Disapparated, appearing the next moment in the silent atrium of the ministry. Baker quietly made her way across it, heading for the elevators as her shoes clicked and echoed along the floor.

She quickly reached the almost deserted Auror Headquarters, heading straight for the assigned conference room. She knocked loudly as she opened the door, her eyes falling on other bleary eyed Aurors as she stepped in.

"What's happened?"

They looked back up at her before Kingsley answered in his slow rumbling voice.

"It's the Potter boy. We think we know where he is."


	30. Chapter 30

Giles Corey stood silently in front of his top Aurors, weighing up the risks of the fragile task that he and many others faced. He fiddled with his goatee in deep thought, as the people involved fidgeted slightly, some lost deep in thought, others waiting impatiently for his decision.

"Are we the only people who know this information?" he asked, more to buy himself some thinking time than to get an answer.

"Yes," Kingsley answered slowly. "Only the eight of us here, and the anonymous source who told us."

"Kingsley, how can we possibly be sure that that's where he is?" replied a frustrated Auror. Terence Shepherd was another top Auror who throughout the morning had been nothing but skeptical.

"How do we know that this isn't Death Eaters trying to throw us off the trail?" he continued.

"It's our duty to check," Kingsley replied, feeling himself turn defensive. "It's our duty to do anything we can."

"I'm not saying tha-"

"Come on Terry," another Auror piped up. "This is our only lead. It's not like we have a better plan!"

"If we run off on our high horses without any proof that he's there, we put this whole investigation in danger, not to mention our lives!"

"Oh, you're the perfect one to talk about this investigation, aren't you," Baker said sarcastically, her tired chin resting on her hand. "Considering you've had almost nothing to do with it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Shepherd replied as he turned to her.

"It means that if you're not going to be involved in the investigation, then you have no right undermining it!"

"Uninvolved?" he replied incredulously. "Somebody has to hold this Department together while everybody else is off chasing Death Eaters."

"Oh, this is what it's all about, isn't it?" Andrea Hadden asked sarcastically. "The fact that we're off chasing Death Eaters while you do paper work!"

"What I'm trying to say is that you're all rushing right into this rescue mission, when we don't even know for sure if he's there!"

"Rushing into it?" Baker replied angrily. "We've been here nine hours discussing it! How exactly is that rushing?"

"Look, sorry guys, but I'm on Shep's side here," another voice said loudly and firmly. "I'm all for getting that kid out of there, but we have no proof that he's even there. Sure, we have an anonymous tip-off, but we don't have proof."

"We don't have time for proof!"

"This is our only lead!"

"We need proof."

"Shove your proof! We gotta get him out of there!"

"We don't know he's there!"

"They told us what room he's in for Merlin's sake!"

"QUIET!"

The room fell silent at the loud voice of Edward Proctor, the man who had been second in line for Head of the Department. He had stood up beside Corey, frustration etched clearly over his face.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here, people? We're supposed to be working together, not chewing each other to pieces!"

The Aurors glared at one another, each opposing side furious with the lack of support they were being given.

"Corey, what do you make of all this?" Proctor asked, all energy seemed to have been lost from his voice.

Corey looked down at the ground, fiddling with his goatee again. He had been listening to each side of the argument, weighing each side up in his mind. They needed proof, yet this was their only lead. His rushed and confused thoughts led him to the same question that he asked himself most days. 'Why did I ever take this position?' Truthfully, he just wanted this investigation to be over, and if the boy survived then that was a bonus. And this seemed to be his way out. Yet doubt trickled into his mind.

"Baker?"

"Yes sir?" Jenny replied, lifting her chin out of her hands and sitting up straight.

"You said that they made more contact again this morning?"

"Yes sir. We're baffled though. The writing is definitely Potter's, but the phrase-"

"What did he say?" Corey asked impatiently.

"'Hell tattling one'," she replied. "We asked around the family and friends, but no one recognizes it as something Potter has said before. But it's definitely his writing though."

Corey bit his lip involuntarily. So the boy was still alive, that was an obvious plus for them. But was this really the best action? What if he was wrong? 'Nothing a bottle of firewhisky can't fix,' he thought briefly to himself.

"Kingsley," he began as he looked up at the room, still fiddling with his goatee.

"Yes sir?" he replied in his deep slow voice.

"Form a rescue team. Tell only those who are in it, and together devise a plan."

A small sigh of frustration echoed through the room as Shepherd put his head in his hands, yet knowing better than to question Corey.

"Yes sir."

"You have three hours, we will meet here again at half past two. Move quickly people, and don't let this leak out to anybody. Especially the media."

"Even the family sir?" Baker asked, feeling as though his godfather at least ought to know.

"Nobody."

Hermione absentmindedly stroked the fur behind Crookshanks' ears as he sat comfortably on her lap, purring in delight. Outwardly she seemed to be watching the unenthusiastic game of chess between Ron and Ginny, but her mind had traveled to other places, taking her unwillingly along with it.

It was the most peculiar feeling, sitting on the outside while her best friend was in the hands of Death Eaters. Every day seemed to be going at top speed as she struggled to keep up, struggled to keep her normally cool head. Sometimes it seemed as though she were watching a Muggle car crash in slow motion. Seeing it, but unable to do anything, watching in horror as lives were changed forever. Yet at the same time, none of this seemed real. Like she was watching her days go by through somebody else's eyes, as though she could turn away any minute and be on her summer holidays, answering the phones at her parents' dental surgery in order to earn some extra pocket money.

That's where she had been when all of this started. With a telephone held between her ear and her shoulder as she flipped through the date book, making appointments for various clients. Root canals, fillings and removals. People gingerly touching their swollen faces as they presented their insurance cards, children protesting as her father told them to stop eating so much candy. That's what she was supposed to be doing right now.

She looked up briefly as Fred and George approached the group of three, identical grins plastered over their faces as they approached.

"Game's over, brother," George chirped as he sat down next to Hermione.

"We have something that may interest you," Fred continued as he sat down on the floor next to Ginny, pulling an envelope out of his jacket pocket.

"What?" asked Ron suspiciously.

Fred threw him the envelope with a wink as he said-

"Dad had them printed out on Monday morning. I just found them."

Ron opened the envelope as Hermione and Ginny watched on in curiosity. He took one of the photos out, laughing softly as he realized what it was.

"Merlin, that was a good game," he said, looking at the photo of he and Harry that had appeared in the _Prophet_. He smiled softly as he watched himself in the picture. The Ron wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder in his futile attempt to wrestle the tightly held Snitch from his hands. Ron didn't notice as Ginny took the envelope out of his hands, flipping through the photos that she had briefly seen that Monday morning. She handed one to Hermione after looking at it, before she darted to the next one.

Hermione reluctantly took the photo that was offered to her, it was a picture of the cake that Tonks had made before Fred and George had put candles in it. The icing sat perfectly on the circular cake as Tonks smiled in the background, thrilled with her work. Hermione solemnly leaned over Crookshanks as she passed the photo on to Ron, receiving another that Ginny held out to her.

This one had been taken by herself, she could remember the happiness on her best friend's face as he and his girlfriend had walked hand in hand back from the chicken coop, only to be caught by herself and the camera. She breathed in softly as the Harry in the picture saw the camera before turning away to tenderly kiss Ginny. She agreed perfectly with anyone that mentioned it, Harry and Ginny were a great combination, the perfect combination that seemed to 'balance each other out.' During their time together at Hogwarts students had gone as far as to name them 'the golden couple.'

"Oh, Hermione this one's nice," Ginny said, pulling Hermione out from her thoughts.

She looked up as Ginny held out another photo. Hermione quickly passed the one she was just looking at on to Ron, before taking the photo that Ginny was offering. She turned it over as her breath caught in her throat, seeing the photo she had not remembered posing for. She, Ron and Harry stood alongside each other, each smiling as the Hermione on the picture rested her hand on Harry's shoulder, the pinkish clouds in the background reminding her that it had been dusk when the picture had been taken.

A small tear formed in the corner of her eye as Ron pulled a face, causing Harry to burst with laughter as Hermione scolded them both, waving her finger at them. The tear fell, unnoticed by anyone as she watched Harry's face fill with laughter and happiness, all three of them oblivious to the horrors that Harry and Ron would face in only a few hours.

"Remember Hagrid eyeing that cake?" Fred asked as he peered over his sister's shoulder at the photo from when Harry had cut the cake.

"Knowing Hagrid, he could have eaten the whole thing, given the chance," replied Ginny.

"Yeah, even that wouldn't have made a dent in Hagrid's appetite."

"Oi," Ron said, getting their attention. "What about when that idiot tried to push me into the stream!"

"The idiot you refer to is my boyfriend, and he didn't try to push you in, he succeeded."

"Yeah, except I almost dragged him in with me!" Ron said laughing, remembering how he had tried to grab onto his friend's arm as he fell ungraciously into the knee-high stream.

"Your finest hour Ron!" George said in mock admiration.

"Whose idea was it for you girls to wear that lipstick?" Fred asked.

"Tonks'," Ginny replied, smiling genuinely. "Merlin, he looked so hilarious with that lipstick smeared everywhere!"

The four of them laughed loudly, as Hermione watched on, torn between a smile and anger. How could they be laughing so much, when Harry was in danger?

"Anyone who walked in would have thought you and he had been up to something Gin," said Fred as he laughed.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, sorely tempted to bat bogey curse him. Ron laughed heartily before finally noticing the photo, which Hermione had passed him beforehand. He looked down at the picture of Harry and his sister kissing, before crying-

"Why are you two snogging on camera?"

Ginny leaned over, peering at the picture she had already seen. "Because we can."

"Aww, poor Ronniekins!" the twins said in unison. "Jealous?"

"No!" he replied indignantly. The twins and Ginny laughed loudly at his response, watching as Ron's face turned bright red.

Hermione wiggled her fingers underneath Crookshanks, hoisting him up into her arms as she stood.

"Just stop it would you?" she said loudly, sounding shrill.

Their laughter ceased immediately at the sound of her shrill voice, all four heads turning her way, looking at her with a mixture of outrage, shock and curiosity.

"What is it?" Ginny dared, looking at Hermione worriedly.

"Don't you guys get it? Harry could be dead!"

Hermione stepped around behind the couch, Crookshanks gently pressing his claws into her arm affectionately.

"He could die! Actually stop living!" She looked at them in dismay, noting the open mouths of Fred and George. "Don't you guys get that?"

She turned away and stalked upstairs before they could see the tears that had begun falling down her soft cheeks.

The twins and Ginny immediately turned to Ron, who looked at them in dismay.

"What?" he mouthed softly.

"Get up there!" George mouthed back, brandishing his thumb in the direction of the stairs.

"Me?"

"Yes, you! Follow her you idiot!" Fred whispered, slightly louder.

"Why me?"

"Go!" Ginny whispered, her voice strained as the impact of Hermione's words began to set in. The few moments they had shared in their laughter had made their worries melt away, had eased the pain for a few minutes.

Ron looked at his three siblings before quickly pushing himself up from the ground, and following his friend up the rickety staircase. He headed straight for Percy's room, hesitantly knocking on the door. There was a moment of silence in which he wondered if she was in there, before he heard a loud sniff.

"Come in."

Ron pushed the door open slightly, peering in. His eyes fell on Hermione who was lying on the bed, her back against the wall, facing him. She didn't look up as he stepped inside, brushing away Crookshanks who wound himself around his feet, he approached the bed. He gently sat on the edge of her bed, looking uncomfortably at the tears that were steadily falling onto the pillow.

"Sorry," she muttered.

He said nothing as he looked at her, wondering what he should say. He sighed softly, before he lay down on the bed beside her, facing her as she looked at him with embarrassment.

"It's ok," he replied softly.

She sniffled again, the tears continued to fall. Ron raised his head slightly, searching in his pockets for his handkerchief. He offered it to her as she eyed it suspiciously.

"It's clean."

She again looked at it, before slowly taking it in her hands, wiping at her face with it. She took a small, shuddering breath as she clenched the hanky in her fist, laying her hand down near her chin as she averted Ron's eyes.

"Is this really happening?" she whispered.

Ron stayed silent for a moment, a little shocked by the question.

"Yeah, it is."

She sniffled again, closing her eyes as another few stray tears fell. Ron eyed her hand nervously, before reaching out his own, and grasping hers tightly, a move that slightly shocked the both of them.

"If we know Harry, then he's already given those gits a mouthful of cheek."

Hermione laughed softly, opening her watery eyes and looking at Ron's. He opened his mouth hesitantly, before continuing.

"He's Harry Potter. He'll be alright."


	31. Chapter 31

It had just darkened, when the light haired man crouched down behind a stack of metal pylons, peering silently at the derelict building some hundred yards away from him. His eyes looked around as a small, yet deep voice whispered into his ear.

"Tokyo, you're safe. Approach target."

"Roger that," the man muttered softly, slowly raising himself up from behind the metal pylons. His eyes darted around the Muggle construction site that surrounded him, before he quickly pulled on a black beanie, tucking his blonde hair out of sight. Jeremiah Quentin gripped his wand tightly as he darted forward, his strong legs quickly taking himself towards his destination. His black clothing rendered him almost invisible in the darkness as he stealthily moved forwards, stopping briefly to check his position.

"Tokyo, halt. You're in range. Begin operation."

"Roger that," he muttered again as he crouched down behind a Muggle bin. He pulled back the long sleeve of his shirt, removing one of the many spare 'decoy detonators' from where he had strapped them to his body. He held it tightly as he took out his wand, tapping the black disk. He turned it over, taking note of the number that had been painted onto the bottom. He spoke softly as he pressed the small disk onto the side of the Muggle garbage bin, his charm holding it in place.

"This is Tokyo, decoy number 4 in place, copy."

"Copy that Tokyo, number 4. Keep moving."

Jeremiah looked towards his right, spotting his next destination. This type of operation was nothing new to him, he was one of the most highly recognized Aurors in the department, so it was no shock when Kingsley asked him to assist in this rescue operation. It was Kingsley who was whispering in his ear, supervising the operation from the top of a Muggle building not to far away. The newest version of the 'wizarding ear and mouthpiece' sat snugly in his ear, allowing Kingsley to freely communicate with himself and the other Aurors who were involved.

Through the earpiece, he heard Kingsley softly relaying orders to other members of the rescue team, telling them when it was safe to move, acting as their eyes in the darkness. Jeremiah moved quickly, running quickly across the deserted, wide Muggle street until he reached the pavement opposite him. He again crouched down, pulling back his sleeve as he repeated the same process with another detonator, this time sticking it on the rusty Muggle bench he hid behind.

"Wellington, this is Tokyo. Decoy 5 in place. Copy."

"Decoy 5. Copy," came the voice of Kingsley.

He looked up as he saw a distant figure slunk low, crouching next to a set of large iron gates. Jeremiah raised his hand, extending it outwards to his side, holding it in position as he said softly-

"Canberra. Is that you? Over"

The distant figure remained motionless for a moment, before mimicking his arm movement. Jeremiah saw an arm extend outwards as another voice spoke into his ear.

"This is Canberra, over."

Jeremiah pulled his arm back in as he adjusted himself comfortably.

"This is Tokyo. Two detonators planted. What's your position? Over."

"Three detonators planted, I have a visual on the destination."

"This is Wellington. Are we good to go?"

"This is Tokyo, good to go."

"This is Canberra, good to go."

"This is Delhi, good to go," a third voice echoed through his ears, as the third Auror, who was still hidden, spoke.

"Stand by raiders. Wait for my orders."

Jeremiah fell silent as he waited for more orders. He looked around, doing his best to take in what surroundings he could. There wasn't much to see really. Mainly boarded up buildings overlooking the street that was rarely used by Muggles. 'What a nice place to live,' he thought grimly to himself, having no idea that this was where many children had grown up, not knowing that he was mere yards away from the birthplace of he-who-must-not-be-named. 'An orphanage' Kingsley had told him. "An abandoned orphanage from years ago."

"This is Wellington. I count 6 undesirables. Two on the ground floor, one on the first floor, and three on the second floor. The Big Apple is on the first floor, guarded by one."

"Copy that," the three whispered, almost in unison.

"This is Wellington again, OK raiders moving in. Stay discreet, don't give away your position until I give the order."

"Copy that."

Jeremiah stood up, looking around properly before crouching slightly. He set off at a run, quickly approaching the large iron gates that towered over him. He watched as the Auror he currently knew as Canberra, slipped through the open gate before he followed her. His black boots crunched on the leaves that had blown across the almost overgrown courtyard as he and the other Auror approached the front steps, the tall building looming over them.

"Silencio," Canberra muttered, pointing her wand at the heavy front doors, before she silently pushed them open. Jeremiah followed her up the stairs and into a musty smelling entrance hall, the black and white tiles seemed to gleam beneath the decades of dust.

"This is Delhi, I've entered second floor window, awaiting orders."

"Copy," said Kingsley. "Canberra, keep watch on the ground floor, Tokyo, approach the stairs, turn left."

"Copy," he whispered as he crept towards the rickety staircase, thankful that his boots made no sounds. He pointed his outstretched wand at the staircase, silencing it before he began ascending. He could feel his steady heartbeat as adrenaline began flowing through his body. 'This is it,' he thought to himself. He reached the top of the staircase. Looking right and left, he checked each corridor. He turned left.

"Tokyo, continue along the corridor, The Big Apple is being held in the sixth room on your right. There is one undesirable with him. Copy?"

"Copy," he replied, his voice so soft he was amazed that the mouthpiece was able to pick up his words.

He held his wand aloft, stepping forward through the corridor, his eyes falling on doorway number six easily. Light shone through the open door halfway down the corridor, lighting his way easily. He pressed himself against the opposite wall as he slowly approached the door. He could see straight into the room from the open door, his eyes falling on the form of a tall, cloaked figure. He watched it for a moment, before the figure stepped out of his line of sight, revealing what he wanted to see most of all.

"Wellington," he spoke softly. "This is Tokyo, I have a visual on The Big Apple."

"What's his status?"

"Doesn't look his best, but it looks like he could walk out of here."

"Hold your position."

"This is Tokyo, Wellington this seems way too easy."

"Half of everything is luck," came the voice of Canberra.

"Just hold your position."

"Copy."

He stayed still, not taking his eyes off the victim he was supposed to be rescuing. Harry Potter was bound tightly to a chair, his head slumped forwards from exhaustion. He seemed to be saying something, his bruised face illuminated clearly in the light. He seemed disorientated.

"This is Wellington, Tokyo are you ready to go live?"

"Ready," he confirmed.

There was a pause before Kingsley continued. "Going live, on my count of three. One."

Jeremiah gripped his wand tightly, holding it steadily in front of himself.

"Two."

The two other Aurors prepared themselves mentally, gripping their wands tightly also.

"Three."

Jeremiah stepped out of the shadows to stand in the doorway, pointing his wand fearlessly at the cloaked figure.

"Stupefy!"

The figure fell to the ground, unprepared for his abrupt ambush. He ignored the figure and turned straight to Potter, whose pale and bruised face showed nothing but shock and surprise.

"Who are you?" he muttered, too exhausted to manage much else.

"Jeremiah Quentin," he replied, looking Potter in the eyes as he used his wand to untie his hands. "I'm an Auror, I'm getting you out of here."

Potter mumbled something incoherent as Jeremiah's wand untied the other ropes. He could hear the heavy breathing of the other Aurors through his earpiece, as he muttered into it.

"Wellington, this is Tokyo. I have him, we're ready to move."

There was a pause before Kingsley answered.

"This is Wellington. Delhi what's your status?"

"This is Delhi, ready to move."

"Delhi, proceed to the first floor. Find Tokyo and The Big Apple and provide them with cover."

"Copy that."

Jeremiah looked back up into the face of Harry Potter, his eyes momentarily falling upon his famous scar.

"Alright Potter, we have to move. I'm going to help you up, but you have to lean on me. Don't try to walk too much."

Jeremiah didn't wait for an answer, he gently took one of his arms, bringing it gently around his shoulder as he lifted the boy from the chair. He was light for his age, but this was not unexpected to Jeremiah as he placed his arm firmly around the boy's middle. He steadied himself as an Auror he recognized entered the room, his wand held aloft in front of him, his dark clothing much the same as his own.

"Wellington, this is Delhi," the man spoke softly. "We're ready to move."

"Ok raiders, the coast is clear. You're free to move, but don't let your guard down."

"Copy that," came the voice of all three Aurors, as they began moving. Jeremiah walked slowly, letting Delhi fully protect them as he carefully supported Potter. He looked back down at him as they ascended the stairs, his feet were momentarily brushing the floor and he looked as though he was about to pass out.

He looked back up again as they crossed the tiled entrance and saw Canberra ahead of them, guarding their way also. The four crossed the overgrown courtyard and passed through the iron gates. Delhi reached into his pocket for his Portkey, as time seemed to freeze.

Several loud cracks reverberated around the empty Muggle street as Kingsley's frantic voice came through their earpiece.

"Raiders, code blue! Code blue!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Jeremiah's wand flew from his hand before he could block the spell, he watched helplessly as the wands of Canberra and Delhi flew towards the Death Eater who cast the spell. Suddenly an unknown force pushed them all to the ground, and Jeremiah could feel the uneven breathing from the boy next to him. He looked up as a tall figure rushed towards them, grabbing the boy and dragging him away as Jeremiah tried desperately to stop them. Potter yelled in pain, thrashing about for release.

"Well, well, well," a hooded figure drawled. "What do we have here? A rescue?"

They looked around silently as more cloaked figures stepped forward, closing in on them. There seemed to be no way out. Kingsley's voice spoke softly in their ear.

"Raiders, follow all instructions, I'll get you out of here."

Jeremiah looked back up at Potter, he had gone almost completely limp as the Death Eater holding him pointed his wand to his throat. Jeremiah remembered his training, he remembered that his sole responsibility was the safety of the hostage. Nothing should ever compromise Potter's safety.

"We'll come quietly, if you spare his life," Jeremiah said, trying to buy Kingsley some time. The Death Eaters laughed as a few of them stepped forward, their wands raised towards them. It was this moment that Kingsley acted.

'BANG', the bench Jeremiah had hidden behind previously exploded, the decoy detonators activating. 'BANG', The garbage bin exploded, rubbish flew through the air, littering the deserted street. 'BANG, BANG, BANG' a fire hydrant exploded spectacularly, water was sent whooshing at great pressure into the air, raining down on the street in heavy torrents.

The Aurors seized their chance. Leaping up they fumbled in their pockets, pulling out their emergency Portkey. Jeremiah pulled an old comb out of his pocket, before throwing himself at Potter, yelling as he did so.

"Activate!"

With relief, he felt the great tug behind his navel as he and Potter were transported back to the Ministry. They landed in the Atrium with a great thud, the air was forced from his lungs. Jeremiah sat up from his less than gracious position, his eyes falling on a shocked janitor. Ignoring the janitor, his heart sank as he saw Potter a few feet away from him.

"Potter!" he said loudly, turning the boy over. Jeremiah's mouth dropped open when he saw the boy. He was gasping and writhing in great discomfort as his features began rapidly changing. The jet-black hair shortened and turned blonde, his face and body quickly changed back to its original state. The Polyjuice potion was wearing off.

"Tokyo! Are you alright?" Canberra, whom he now recognized as Andrea Hadden, appeared at his side as another loud thud announced the arrival of Delhi. "Merlin! What happened?"

Jeremiah sighed softly, reaching out his hands to comfort the blonde haired boy who lay before him. He couldn't be more than twelve years old.

"It's not him," he replied bitterly.

Harry Potter was pushed roughly down to his knees, the tight ropes that held his hands behind his back were severed. He brought his hands around to his front, wiggling his fingers slightly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the floor length robes of the many Death Eaters. He had considered counting them as he came in, but he knew there had to be at least twenty, standing in a semi-circle around him, while Voldemort sat comfortably in his chair.

"How has your day been, Harry?" Voldemort asked casually, as though it were the most obvious question in the world.

"A bit dull, really," Harry replied.

"Well, I suppose it's not too late to change that. Let's add some excitement, shall  
we?"

Harry continued to stare at the ground, not seeing Voldemort wave his wand.  
Another piece of parchment and a quill appeared in front of him, telling him immediately what Voldemort wanted him to do. And he was prepared for it.

"You know what happens next," Voldemort said calmly.

Harry looked at the parchment for a moment, then reached out and took the quill in his hand. A flash of lightning shone through the cracks in the boarded up windows, a distant roll of thunder came after it. The quill scratched along the paper as Harry wrote the words, 'Lion-hearted minds.'

He dropped the quill onto the parchment and pushed it away, not looking up as a Death Eater flicked his wand, sending the parchment and quill soaring towards herself.

"Lion-hearted minds," came the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange, speaking not to Harry, but to her master.

Voldemort cocked his head slightly, looking at Harry with a smirk.

"Lion-hearted minds?" he said.

"It's a Gryffindor thing," Harry said, prepared for someone to question this absurd sounding statement. 'That's the hitch with anagrams,' he thought to himself. 'They don't make much sense.'

"Where did Dumbledore go during his absences from Hogwarts?" Voldemort asked, not missing a beat.

"Merlin," Harry muttered in reply. "I was sort of hoping, that you'd given up on that. Considering I made it pretty clear, I'm not telling you."

"You will tell me. Whether you tell me now, tomorrow, or next week. It doesn't matter to me."

"I won't," he replied fiercely.

"You will," Voldemort replied calmly.

"This is just going to go on, and on!" Harry said sarcastically. "You say yes, I say no. Yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, it's just going to keep going in circles until you finally kill me, isn't it?"

"Are you saying you'd like me to just kill you?" Voldemort asked, not bothered by Harry's sarcastic outburst.

"I must admit," he replied, looking up at Voldemort. "It would be a lot quicker.'

"Let's get started then, Crucio!"

The expected pain shot through his body instantly, sending him to the floor. He clenched his teeth together, in his desperate attempts to hold back his screams. Unable to bear it, he screamed as though it were his last moment alive, just as the pain relinquished.

He laid flat on his back, his breathing erratic as he tried to draw breath, as he tried to stop shaking. Harry pushed himself up, leaning on his hands as his breaths shook. He could hear some of the Death Eaters, laughing at his pain. He ignored them. He looked up, immediately tensing his body as he saw Voldemort flick his wand again.

Harry gasped loudly, pain shooting across his already wounded back, leaving him with another shallow cut. It began to bleed, the blood again staining his tattered shirt as the groan, that he held at the back of his throat, left him.

"You know, Harry," Voldemort began as he rose from his chair. "It's the simplest curse, that can give a person more pain than they can endure."

Harry could see him approaching him, his black shoes making soft sounds of the stone floor.

"But it's not just the curse that hurts. It's knowing what's coming, that hurts the most."

Harry let out a second gasp of pain, louder this time as he clenched his fingers into a fist. Thunder rolled loudly overhead, momentarily masking his gasp.

"Tell me about the prophecy," Voldemort said again, abandoning the subject of Dumbledore for a moment.

"No."

"Tell me about the prophecy," Voldemort repeated, raising his voice.

"No."

Voldemort flicked his wand, watching expressionlessly as his victim groaned again. He asked again.

"Tell me."

"No," Harry forced out through clenched teeth.

"Tell me, now," Voldemort said loudly, feeling himself lose his patience, feeling himself growing frustrated.

"No!" Harry said, equally loud.

"Tell me!" Voldemort flicked his wand mercilessly, satisfaction in his victim's pain flowing through him, as the boy gasped and tensed his muscles. Harry groaned again, the pain in his back becoming unbearable. Thunder rolled again as he drew in a deep shuddering breath, while he felt himself losing control.

"Stuff you!" he yelled, looking at Voldemort. "Get it through your head, I'm not telling you anything!"

A wave seemed to pass over the Death Eaters as they waited with abated breath, wondering how their master would react to such an insult.

"And nothing you do, can make me," Harry continued.

"Nothing?" Voldemort said with a smirk. "Nothing at all."

"No," Harry relied, not caring what Voldemort did to him. He was not breaking the promise he made to himself. Voldemort turned, walking slowly away from him, speaking with a cold voice-

"Hold out your arm."

"No," Harry said, not even bothering to consider this command.

Voldemort looked towards a few of his Death Eaters, giving them an unsaid command. Two of the cloaked figures stepped forward, their cloaks billowing around them as they walked towards him. He looked up into the face of Bellatrix Lestrange, as she grabbed his arm, pulling it painfully behind his back while she pressed her wand to his neck. He struggled against her hold, hating her as the other Death Eater seized a fistful of his hair, yanking his head backwards.

"You know Harry, whether you like it or not, you are going to tell me everything."

"No, I'm not."

"Hold out your arm."

He shook his head defiantly, the person holding his hair gripped it tighter, grabbing his left arm in their hand, thrusting it out in front of him as he tried to resist. They were stronger, overpowering him easily. Voldemort turned, walking slowly back towards Harry, twirling his wand like a baton with his long fingers. Harry's scar began to burn as he came closer.

"Harry," he said casually. "I was thinking of sending a postcard, to your godfather. But then I realized that a photo, would be much more personal."

Harry stared up at him, refusing to ask what he meant, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Dolohov, make sure you get a picture of this," Voldemort continued. Confusion spread through Harry's mind, 'Why would he want a picture?' Harry looked up into Voldemort's face, the two enemies staring each other in the eyes.

Voldemort closed the gap between them, Bellatrix twisting Harry's arm behind his back even more painfully. Voldemort bent down a little, pressing the tip of his wand into Harry's inner forearm, his scar burning painfully.

"Last chance Potter. Tell me about the prophecy."

"Why? What are you going to do to me, huh?"

"I will make you wish, that you'd never been born," Voldemort said lowly, only the people closest would be able to hear him.

"Sometimes, I think it's too late for that," Harry answered, his voice equally low.

Without saying a word, Voldemort increased the pressure of his wand upon Harry's arm, increasing his discomfort.

"I'll be merciful. Last chance."

"No," Harry replied defiantly, not caring what he did next.

A gleam seemed to appear in Voldemort's red eyes, as he spoke again to Dolohov.

"Ready, Dolohov?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Harry continued looking into Voldemort's eyes, his heart pounding with terror and anticipation. He tensed his body as Voldemort drew breath.

"Morsmorde!"

Harry yelled in agony, the skin on his arm erupting in pain as Voldemort pressed his wand to it even harder. There was a flash of light as Dolohov captured the moment, Harry struggling frantically against the tight hold on him. He screamed in agony through his clenched teeth, thrashing around as the Death Eaters around him cheered.

Suddenly, Voldemort withdrew his wand, stepping back with a satisfied smile. The Death Eaters holding him relinquished their grip. Bellatrix removed her wand from his neck, before kicking him hard in the face. Harry was pushed sideways from the force of her kick, leaning on his shaking arms as his face throbbed. His eyes darted to his arm, holding in a cry of horror as he saw it. The Dark Mark had been branded onto his skin, his arm red and throbbing.

"Draco," Voldemort said loudly. "Take him upstairs."

Harry looked up in shock, watching as another cloaked figure stepped forward, drawing his wand. Malfoy seized him roughly around his upper arm, dragging him to his feet as he pointed his wand at him threateningly. Harry swayed slightly on his feet as he turned to face Voldemort, who was again sitting in his chair. He scoffed loudly, smiling as he looked at him.

"You're really frustrated now, aren't you" he asked scornfully as he was dragged away. "If you just resorted to giving me the Dark Mark, you mustn't know what else to do!"

Voldemort did not reply. Harry gave him a wide smirk as he let Malfoy drag him upstairs without protest. He chanced another look at his arm, at the skull and snake that had been branded into his skin. It burned as they ascended the circular staircase.

"You should just co-operate," Malfoy muttered in an undertone to Harry, once they were out of earshot. "It'll make things easier on yourself."

"Make things easier on him, you mean," Harry replied as a sudden, yet stupid plan emerged in his mind. He looked down again, noting Malfoy's wand, which hung uselessly at his side, realizing that his hands had not yet been tied behind his back. He looked back up as they reached the second floor, the door to 'his room' was mere feet away.

Draco raised his wand at the door, unlocking it when Harry seized his chance. He twisted sharply out of Draco's grip, slapping his hand tightly onto his mouth and nose, his other free hand wrestling the wand from his. The hood fell back, revealing Malfoy's scared face as he clawed at Harry, as a knee slammed into Malfoy's stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"Stupefy," Harry said as discreetly as he could.

Draco slumped uselessly to the floor, unconscious. Harry stared at his lifeless form, his mind comprehending what had just happened. He blinked, staring down at the blurry figure on the floor his body began moving, undirected by him. He reached down and seized the lifeless hands, dragging his body through the open door. His injured and malnourished body yelled in pain as he dragged. Malfoy's body was heavier than he had expected.

He dropped Malfoy's hands with a sigh of relief, falling to his knees as he wrestled the black robes off Malfoy's body. He didn't know what he was doing. He seemed to be watching from another perspective as he threw the robes over himself, pulling the hood forward and stepping out of the room. He flinched, lightning cracked loudly overhead as he shut the door.

Harry turned on his heel and headed back to the staircase, not bothering to look for the wand he had dropped. His heart raced as he walked back down the stairs, trying to be as calm as possible. His hands trembled and his breath shook as he reached the ground floor, seeing the circle of Death Eaters standing where they were before, listening to Voldemort as he spoke. He turned the opposite way, walking directly to the grand doors, flanked by dusty, yet beautiful stained-glass windows.

He opened the door quickly, then shut it behind him, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark night. He hoped desperately that they thought he were Draco, that they would not follow him. Yet he could not stop himself. Harry set off a top speed, his bare feet tripping over the front steps as he dashed down them. The pain in his body seemed to vanish as he reached the bottom of the steps. He dashed blindly across the sloping lawn, weeds threatening to snag his feet at any moment.

"Draco!" somebody called. "Draco, get back here!"

He didn't turn around, he continued running despite the persistent calls of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Draco!"

There was a loud bang, something caught around his ankles as Narcissa's 'trip-jinx' send him falling to the ground. He threw his arms forward as he landed painfully on his side, winded. He quickly forced himself back to his feet, turning his head as he looked towards the grand house he had been running from, light shining brightly from its open doors. He had run farther than he expected, and he watched in horror as Narcissa recognized him, dashing back inside the ivy covered house, to warn the others.

Thunder crashed overhead with a flash of lightning. He turned again and continued running as it began raining, every movement now sending terrible jolts of pain through his body. He threw off the robes, freeing up his body even more.

Rain pelted down, quickly soaking him to the bone as he desperately looked for a place to hide. His heart pounded as he ran. Objects appeared suddenly before him, unable to be seen properly in the darkness.

Loud yells echoed through the air around him as Death Eaters spilled out of the house, searching frantically in the dark for their prisoner. Harry's heart sank as he realized he had nowhere to hide. Suddenly, as though in answer to his sinking heart, an old, abandoned cottage seemed to materialize in front of him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

He looked around frantically as the light from many wands illuminated the angry faces that were looking for him. Without thinking, he dove straight into the overgrown garden bed, which sat against the house, cutting himself numerous times on the unkempt rose bushes as he buried himself in further. He sat deathly still, his breaths shallow with terror as Death Eaters searched in vain for him. His scar began to burn painfully, a flash of anger that was not his, went through him like a knife, telling him of Voldemort's fury.


	32. Chapter 32

Ginny Weasley sat on the windowsill in her bedroom, looking out the open window into the garden below. It was late in the evening, her mother had ordered her to bed hours ago. She wanted so much to sleep, to forget about what was happening for just a moment as she dreamt. But her mind kept wandering, relentlessly taking her back to the harsh reality that surrounded her.

Ginny bowed her head, studying her fingernails in the moonlight for a few moments. She could see the lights on downstairs, through the corner of her eye. The adults were sitting up, probably discussing the failed rescue attempt that they had not even known about. She had been eavesdropping when her family was told. Desperately for her boyfriend's rescue, the disappointment had hit her like a ton of bricks.

Ginny hated not knowing. She hated being on the outside of everything, gaining information only through carefully planned eavesdropping, even then she couldn't hear everything that was being said.

"Stupid, bloody git," Ginny muttered savagely to herself as she stood up. "Get's himself caught, and leaves us to pick up the pieces."

She quietly made her way back over to her bed, nestling herself under the covers as she felt her chest begin to constrict, and her throat tighten. She reached towards her bedside table, being careful not to knock over the Muggle radio her father had given her. She found what she had been looking for, and pulled her arm back under the blanket, looking at the object she had retrieved.

It was a photograph of herself and Harry, taken a few days before his capture, and was truly her favorite. They had spent what seemed like forever sitting under that tree in Harry's front yard, talking comfortably about anything, in between snog sessions. Hot tears slowly filled her eyes, spilling down her face and onto the pillow as she watched the two people in the picture. She had been sitting in his lap, leaning her head against his shoulder as he fiddled aimlessly with her crimson hair. They had barely spared Tonks a glance, when she had snuck up on them with the camera.

She took a deep, shuddering breath as more tears spilled from her eyes, moistening the pillow as she clutched the picture tightly. Ginny pulled her knees closer to her body, her arms pinned to her side as she sobbed as quietly as she could. She watched as the Harry in the picture gently brushed back her hair, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

*Flash Back*

"Uhhh, OK," Harry muttered absentmindedly, flicking through the small book of riddles and brainteasers.

"What am I? You can take off my skin and I won't cry, but you will."

Ginny sighed, trying to think of an answer. Her scalp tingled as Harry fiddled with her hair, his callused hands letting her hair fall through their fingers.

"You can take off its skin, and it won't cry. But you will," Ginny confirmed.

"Yep."

"Err," she muttered to herself, somewhat distracted by Harry's hand in her hair.

"It's something you eat," he prompted.

"Uhhh, an onion?" she said offhandedly.

"Got it!" Harry said with a smile. He closed the small book and passed it to his surprised girlfriend. He had found the book in one of Sirius' unpacked boxes, and had finally found a more interesting use for it. He rested his head against the tree the two were concealed behind, closing his eyes for a moment. He listened as Ginny flicked through the pages of the book, looking for a riddle to give him. Harry turned his head slightly, his jaw resting against Ginny's forehead as the two sat together in a comfortable silence until Ginny spoke.

"Ok. A man went outside during a storm, and not one hair on his head was wet. How did this happen?"

"He was bald," Harry said simply, wincing as Ginny pinched him painfully on the knee.

"No, you dolt! He was wearing a raincoat!"

"Awww!" Harry said sarcastically. "Well being bald is still a plausible answer."

"No, it's not," Ginny retorted, flipping through the book again.

"Wait," Harry said with mock seriousness, bringing his hand down to her waist. "How do you think I would look bald?"

"Bloody awful," Ginny said, looking up at him as she smiled.

"Hey," Harry said, bringing his free hand up, touching her cheek gently.

"What?" Ginny replied.

He smiled a little, answering quietly. "Your eyes have a little green in them."

Ginny laughed, smiling back at her boyfriend. "I've never noticed that."

"I have," Harry muttered in reply, leaning his head down to kiss her gently. Immediately he felt her lean into the kiss, responding as she twisted around in his embrace. Her arms found their way around him as she deepened their kiss, leaning into his embrace as his hands around her waist tightened. They kissed fiercely before allowing themselves to slow down to a more pleasurable pace.

They broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other momentarily as they each smiled at the other's flushed face. Suddenly Ginny was kissing him again, her lips pressed against his as her fingers wound their way through his jet black hair. Harry pulled her more firmly against him, his scent filling her nostrils as he did so.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE POTTER!"

Harry and Ginny broke apart with a yell of shock, springing apart from each other as they saw Mad-Eye standing over them, both of his eyes fixed directly on them.

Realizing the hilarity of the situation Harry burst out laughing, his silly grin erupting again on his face. Ginny turned bright red, putting her face into her hands in embarrassment, having been caught snogging by a high member of the Order.

"What have I said about constant vigilance, Potter?" Mad-Eye bellowed again, as he limped away from them, his wooden leg crunching on the leaves. Just then the front door to Harry's house opened.

"What in the world?" Sirius exclaimed as he stepped onto the porch, bewildered by Mad-Eye's sudden bellowing, at what seemed to be nothing.

Hearing the voice of his godfather Harry cracked up, laughing even harder, catching Ginny's mortified eyes as tears of laughter sprung up in his own. He drew in a shuddering breath as Ginny cracked a smile of her own, moving back over to him.

"What if there were Death Eaters watching?" Mad-Eye yelled back at them, one last time as he clunked his way up the steps to meet Sirius. Harry laughed again before forcing himself to take a breath. He slung an arm around Ginny's shoulder, pulling her down gently with him as he lay on the ground, trying to remain concealed behind the tree. Harry rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow as he looked at his girlfriend's bright red face.

"I bet Death eaters don't have this much fun," he said with a final laugh, leaning over to kiss Ginny's cheek. She looked back up at him mischievously, her embarrassment fading now that it was just the two of them.

"Well then," she said, propping herself up on her own elbow. "Let's show them how much fun we can have."

Ginny placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back to the ground as she caught his lips again, neither of them caring who watched on. Up on the porch Sirius chuckled to himself, catching on to what the two teenagers had been up to, right under his nose.

After shaking his head in a mix of amusement and disapproval, Mad-Eye turned around to face Sirius.

"You know, Sirius" Mad-Eye said, his gaze contemplative in the distance, "it's a good thing Potter moved in with you."

Sirius turned to him, silently questioning this statement. Catching his look, Mad Eye continued.

"I haven't seen him this happy or carefree for a long time."

Sirius's gaze shifted back to what he could see of his partially concealed godson, who had retreated back into his carefree world again, kissing his girlfriend. A smile spread across Sirius' face as Mad-Eye's explanation sank in.

"Neither have I, Mad-Eye. Neither have I."

*End Flashback*

Ginny drew in a hearty sniff, tears continuing to spill down her eyes as she cried herself to sleep, still clutching the photo.

Harry was dead on his feet. There was no other way to describe the exhaustion that had plagued him for the last few hours. He had hidden in the garden beside the cottage for what felt like hours, waiting desperately for the Death Eaters to leave in search of him as the strong thunderstorm raged. It was only when he could no longer see the lights of Death Eaters' wands did he dare leave his sanctuary, running where ever his feet took him as the rain soaked him in minutes, the wind leaving him chilled to the bone.

His bare feet crunched on fallen leaves, stepping over the jagged rocks that lay on the ground. He closed his stinging eyes for a moment, blocking out the blurry surroundings that resulted from his lack of glasses. He felt, and heard a twig break loudly underneath his foot. Harry opened his eyes but had to clench them tightly shut again as dizziness washed over him. Flinging out his arm, he leant against a close by tree, breathing deeply for a moment.

Harry groaned softly as he felt his body act of its own accord, bending at the knees until he almost collapsed. He rested his back against the thick trunk, slowing his breathing as a small breeze rustled the tree's leaves.

He shivered slightly, gripping his elbows as he felt the still slightly damp clothing from last nights storm, stinging the wounds across his back. Harry didn't realize it, but he had never looked worse. The blood that had recently dried on his face and body had smeared in the rain, accentuating the deep purple bruises that lingered on his face. The dark circles underneath his eyes had nothing to do with bruising. He had no way of knowing if the cuts in his back had become infected at all, only knowing that they hurt like hell, pain searing across each one as he moved.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, unfolding his arms and stretching his left out in front of him. He looked down at the blurry tattoo, the skin around it was still tinged pink and burning dully. Tracing his finger over it, he felt faintly where the unblemished skin met the tattoo. The more he had looked at it, the more it had sickened him, having such a dark 'trade mark' burned into his own flesh. But he didn't care anymore. He was too tired to care. Exhaustion and hunger had over taken his body, leaving him virtually helpless, but he couldn't sleep. He could not let himself be caught again. He needed to keep moving.

Suddenly motivated by his thoughts Harry forced himself to his feet, leaning his hand against the tree trunk as he gained his balance, as he tried to clear his head. He opened his eyes, pushing himself away from the tree as he again began to walk, a sharp stabbing pain shooting up his leg for no apparent reason. Instantly the desire to sit down rushed back to him, draining his body and mind of any motivation he had managed to summon. But he forced himself to keep going, to keep on walking.

It was useless. He had no idea where he was, only that he must be a little way out of Little Hangleton. He had no idea where he was going. He had seriously considered Apparating, but the memories of the Apparation lessons had come flooding back to him, to the day when the instructor had warned them never to Apparate when sick, tired or injured. Judging by his current state he covered all three, and had quickly pushed Apparation to the back of his mind, not wanting to end up in Scotland, or Splinched.

Harry's feet sank slightly into the soft ground, still muddy from last night's storm. Hunger and thirst stabbed at his body, causing his dizziness and involuntary shaking of his fingers. He tried to ignore it, tried to think of something else. But the pain in his leg quickly became too much, providing a distraction from his thoughts. With a sigh he again sat down, the early morning sun warming the back of his neck.

He leaned back on his hand, tilting his head so that the sun shone on it, warming his face. Harry looked toward the sun for a moment, before closing his eyes against its harsh glare. He was reminded vividly of Ginny's red hair, the way it sometimes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. He wondered dimly what she and everybody else were doing, what they had been up to in the last few days.

"Sirius is probably going spare," he muttered to himself, gently rotating his neck in the hopes of relieving some of the pain. Harry sighed softly, remembering the shattered glass of the patio doors. He hoped he hadn't messed the place up too much.

Harry's eyes snapped open, his body tense and alert. He sat forward quietly, his emerald eyes scanning his blurred surroundings. His heart pounded in his throat, feeling every pulse throughout his body. He held his breath as he quickly twisted around on the ground, looking through the trees and bushes for what he swore was there.

He had heard something, he was sure of it. Every part of him was telling him to run, to get as far away as possible. Ignoring the urge momentarily, he gently pushed himself up into a half crouching position, looking in the direction that he thought he had heard the noise from. It was then that he saw them.

A tall, cloaked figure in the distance was heading towards him, seemingly unaware of his presence. He saw with a jolt in his heart, a long wand held at the Death Eater's side.

Harry froze, half standing as his heart pounded and his breaths became erratic, thoughts running through his mind at a million miles per hour. The figure drew closer. Severus Snape was not wearing his hood, or his mask, allowing Harry to recognize him instantly.

As though a switch inside him had been flicked on, his legs began to work, carrying his half crouched figure towards a large bush. His heart pounding with fear he crouched down fully, trying to make himself as small as possible. He hid behind the bush, watching fearfully through the leaves as Snape drew nearer.

Harry closed his eyes, begging the situation to disappear, begging Snape to leave. He could now hear clearly, the crunch of Snape's shoes on the forest floor as he walked, and when Harry opened his eyes, Snape had stopped only mere feet away from his hiding place.

All breath seemed to have left Harry's body as he seriously considered making a run for it. But he knew he could never out run Snape, especially not without a wand. He clenched his jaws together as he stayed stock still, not wanting to rustle the bush he hid behind. He watched as Snape's black eyes scanned the area around them, his wand held at his side. Slowly Snape turned his head towards Harry, and his cold black eyes locked onto his own.

Immediately Harry felt his body tense up, fearfully anticipating that attack which would surely come. He felt his face pale even more as they held each other's gaze, for what seemed like an eternity. Then, suddenly, Snape turned away, looking straight ahead of himself as he resumed walking. A trembling and shocked teenager was left behind the bush, watching the Death Eater walk away from his target.


	33. Chapter 33

"Rook, to D4," Mr Weasley said proudly, leaning over the chessboard. He and his youngest son watched, as the black rook slid forward, before smashing Ron's knight out of the way.

Ron frowned, having not seen the danger his father's rook had posed upon his knight. He too leaned forward, propping his elbow up on his knee as he rested his chin in his hand. It was early Saturday afternoon, and Mr Weasley and Ron were on their third game of chess, the two of them taking the chance to indulge in a little normality. Mr Weasley, who had initiated the games of chess, had a second motive.

It was a week since the attack, a week since Harry had been kidnapped, and Mr Weasley knew that his son was hurting. There was no way that he couldn't be. The change in his son's behavior, though not unexpected, had resulted in a few late night talks with his wife, who was just as worried as he was.

He knew that Ron had not sought out anybody to talk to, responding bluntly to any questions about how he was. The twins had tried their best to cheer their younger brother up for a little while, producing the photos that had so recently been developed. But even after that, Ron had again become quiet and withdrawn. Not that Mr Weasley could blame him.

"Bishop, to F4," Ron muttered, the concentration on his face apparent. Mr Weasley watched as Ron's white bishop moved diagonally, coming to rest on an empty square. Mr Weasley's eyes scanned the board, plotting out his son's next potential move. Spotting Ron's plan to trap his own rook he paused, vividly remembering the day he had taught his seven year old son how to play chess.

Mr Weasley raised his head, looking at his son, still resting his chin in his hand. He decided now, ought to be the time to tell his son what he had been wanting to. Pretending to be considering his next move, he opened his mouth and casually asked,

"Ron?"

Ron looked up, a little surprised at his father's break in concentration. Normally the two never spoke with each other during a chess game. "Yeah?"

Slightly nervous, Mr Weasly continued. "Son, if you ever want to ask me something, or even just talk, you know you can."

Ron blinked, taken aback by the statement. His eyes immediately darted back down to the chessboard, studying it as he replied. "Yeah, I know."

Mr Weasley nodded, unseen by his somewhat embarrassed son. Mr Weasley rubbed his chin as he leant back into the couch, preparing for his next move.

"Queen, to F3."

Ron's eyes flashed with annoyance, his plan to corner his father's bishop went flying out the window. His eyes unenthusiastically swept the board, looking for a piece that could take his father's queen.

"Knight, to F3," Ron muttered, watching with grim satisfaction as his knight moved forward, brutally knocking his father's queen out of the way, his other pieces cheering softly. He took his chance, opening his mouth to ask the burning question, the question he could only ask somebody who had been in his type of situation.

"Dad, when you were attacked by that Snake, did you-"

"Feel like I was about to die?" Mr Weasley interrupted, seeing the question before his son had finished asking it.

"Yeah," Ron muttered, looking down at the chessboard still.

Mr Weasley paused, he had shared very little detail about that attack with his children, but decided he ought to be straight with his son, if that's what he wanted in return.

"Yes, I honestly thought that it was the end for me."

Ron's face showed instant relief, as though he had just gotten something huge off his chest.

"Then I'm not the only one," he muttered offhandedly.

"What do you mean?"

Ron folded his arms, resting them on his knees as he continued leaning forward. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about this, mainly because they wouldn't understand how he was feeling. But his father, he too had come near to death. He would understand him more than anyone else.

"When I first came round," he began slowly, still not meeting his father's eyes. "I was tied up, and I could see the inside of Harry's house. I tried so hard to get away, tried so hard to apparate, but I couldn't do anything."

Mr Weasley clenched his hands together, anger towards Snape bubbling up inside of him.

"Then Harry came out, talking on one of those fellyphones," Ron continued, his voice feeling slightly constricted. He forced himself to take a breath before he continued.

"He looked so bloody scared, but I just felt so relieved that someone knew I was out there. And then, I don't know why, but he started to go back inside. It was only then that I started thinking I might die."

"But you didn't," Mr Weasley said, reassuringly. "You made it through."

"I know I did, Dad," Ron said lowly, still staring at the chessboard. "But Harry didn't."

Mr Weasley opened his mouth to argue otherwise, saying that Harry was still alive, but was interrupted as the voice of Mrs Weasley rang out from the kitchen, announcing lunch as she and Fleur brought it to the table. Fleur had arrived from France that morning, after staying behind to visit more relatives, and had greatly protested about being kept in the dark so much.

"-Arry is still gone?" she had said. "Why did you not tell me zis before? I come sooner!"

Ron stood abruptly, the tips of his ears tinged pink, embarrassed after the conversation he had just had. He wandered over to the kitchen table, muttering a word of thanks to Fleur and his mother as he sat down, ladling hot steaming soup into a bowl, as a large knife chopped bread beside him. His eyes darted up, watching as his father too sat down. Mr Weasley showed obvious relief that his son had given him some insight to what he was feeling.

Sirius gripped his butterbeer tightly, the glass bottle cooling his hand slightly, as he and Remus sat on the front porch, over looking the small village not too far away. Sirius stared blankly at the stray garden gnome, not really seeing it as it tugged a worm from the soft soil of the garden bed. His face showed no expression, not a thought ran through his mind, sending him deeper into despair.

"Padfoot?" Remus said insistently, standing up. "Are you listening to me?"

Sirius pulled himself from his thoughts, turning his unshaven face towards his friend.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Molly just called, lunch is ready."

Sirius stared blankly at Remus, his words seemed to need a minute to sink in fully.

"Oh," he muttered, looking back towards the garden.

"I'll be there in a minute."

Remus looked down at Sirius, worry etched over his prematurely lined face. He looked in the open window, watching as Ron and Mr Weasley stood up from their game of chess, watching Mrs Weasley levitate a large pot of soup towards the kitchen table. Remus looked back towards his friend, before sitting back down quietly, opening his mouth to speak.

"Sirius, you know you can talk to me," he began uncertainly. "You know that."

Sirius continued looking in the direction of the garden, his face annoyingly blank. He sighed, momentarily closing his eyes, shutting out the painful circumstances. He wanted everything to just disappear, just so he wouldn't have to deal with it, so that he wouldn't have to feel this pain. Yet Moony had made his point, he should talk to someone. But every time the motivation for conversation found him, the questions that had been zooming around in his head seemed to disappear, leaving him with nothing. Nothing to ask, nothing to tell.

"Do you think he knew?" Sirius blurted out quietly. "Harry, I mean."

Remus frowned, leaning back into the chair. "I'm not  
sure I understand.'

"Like Ron. He knew something was going to happen, and it did. Do you think Harry knew?"

Remus paused, not exactly sure how to best answer that question.

"I don't think so," he said truthfully. Sirius' head turned towards him, his eyes widening slightly.

"You don't?"

Remus shook his head gently, as he too began staring out towards the garden. "If he did, he would have told us."

Sirius stared, contemplating these words for a moment.

Slowly, he nodded, staring back out towards the overgrown garden.

"I'm so sick of waiting," Sirius said bitterly. "I want him back, I just want this to be over already."

"Sirius, you have to give things time," Remus said reassuringly. "The Aurors-"

"The Aurors seem to be doing nothing, Remus," Sirius replied angrily. "No offence to Tonks or Mad-Eye, but what has the Auror Department done for us? They can't even recognize a fake tip-off."

"Sirius," Remus began, but he was again cut off as Sirius stood up suddenly.

"And what the hell is wrong with Baker?" Sirius continued, working himself up as he leaned against the wooden railing, looking back at Remus incredulously.

"She said they'd make more contact. She said they would have more demands."

He folded his arms, turning his head to look out at the garden again, waiting for Remus to answer. He didn't. Sirius breathed out lowly, relaxing his tightened grip on the bottle.

"You know," Sirius muttered, softening. "I still remember the first time I held him. He was so tiny, but all I could see was him growing up. Learning to walk, to ride a broomstick, even his first day at Hogwarts. He's missed out on so much."

"We all have," Remus said, standing up and swiftly walking over towards his friend. Reaching out his hand, he placed it on Sirius' folded arm, feeling him tense up.

He wanted so much to tell his friend that things would be all right, that Harry would be back with them in no time. But he couldn't, he couldn't make that type of promise.

"Come inside," Remus said. "Let's get some lunch."

Sirius said nothing, his throat began constricting tightly. He shook his head decisively.

"Ask Molly to save me some, would you?" Sirius replied, doing his best to keep his voice even, to keep up his mask of control. Remus nodded, removing his hand from Sirius' arms, turning around and heading back into the house.

Sirius watched on, the stray garden gnome poking around in the bushes for more worms. Its fat little bottom rose into the air as it bent over, tugging another worm from the soil. Sirius took a deep shuddering breath as he tried to compose himself, determined to let no tears fall. He turned away from the garden, heading back to the seat he breathed out slowly, clearing his mind from any thought.

A cool breeze rustled through the trees as the sun descended in the sky, leaving an orange tinge to the clouds. Harry subconsciously folded his arms, his hands warming them as he walked. He breathed deeply, trying to clear his cloudy head. He gently pressed his hand into his side, rubbing away the pain in his stomach from the lack of food.

He continued walking, still wondering about where Snape's true allegiance lay. There was no way that Snape hadn't seen him, they had looked each other in the eye. Harry tried to visualize various scenarios that would explain Snape's unexpected behavior, that would prove that he was on the right side. Yet every time he did, Dumbledore's pleading words sprung into his mind, forcing any indication that Snape was good to the back of his mind.

He breathed in deeply again, letting his arms fall to his side as he continued wandering aimlessly, hoping desperately that he would eventually find his way to Great Hangleton.

Then, without warning a great flash of red light lit up the area, the stunning spell hitting the tree in front of him, exploding in sparks. Harry jumped in shock, time seemed to have stopped the instant he did, as he stared open mouthed at the scorched tree in front of him. He spun around on the spot, his eyes falling on the distant figure of Draco Malfoy. Harry stood frozen for a moment, watching horrified as Malfoy again drew back his wand.

It was like a switch inside of him had flicked on, forcing him to run the opposite direction, narrowly dodging the second bolt of red. His heart pounded in his throat as he ran, heading for the denser forest, struggling to see exactly where he was going in the dying sunlight. He could hear the distant voice of Malfoy, calling out at the top of his voice for him, and for other Death Eaters.

Harry's muscles screamed in protest, slowing him down as he struggled to stay upright, as he struggled to keep running. He barely registered the sudden sloping of the ground, as his bare feet pounded over the rough ground. His mind seemed to cloud over, his head felt fit to burst as he forced himself to keep running, stumbling through the trees, the yells of Malfoy becoming louder and clearer.

He slowed himself down to a stop, as he came to the edge of a river. His heart sank as he spun around, easily spotting Malfoys blonde hair in the trees behind him, watching for a moment, as he came nearer and nearer. Harry spun back around despairingly, panting as he looked for a place to conceal himself near the flowing river. There was a large expanse of water reeds along the edge of the bank, moving gently from side to side with the current.

Harry quickly moved forward, knowing that this was his only chance of hiding himself. The water was cooler than he anticipated, but ignored this as he stepped in hastily, his feet slipping on submerged rocks. He quickly slipped down behind the water reeds, the running water soaking him up to his chest.

"Potter!" Malfoy yelled, his voice becoming clearer as he came into sight. Harry bit his lip, thankful that the sound of the water masked his heavy breathing. He noticed his back stinging sharply, yet he pushed the pain to the back of his mind, as Malfoy stepped closer to him.

Although blurry, Harry could see the clearly anxious face of Draco as he desperately looked around. Harry looked down into the water briefly, his hand wandering across the riverbed until he found what he had been looking for. He chanced another look down, seeing the large piece of wood he had found.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" Malfoy yelled out hopefully, slowly turning on the spot and stowing his wand inside his robes. Seeing his opportunity Harry grasped hold of the wood firmly, before quickly rising from his hiding place, water cascading from his body. He drew back his arm and swung as hard as he could, hitting Malfoy across the back of the head with a sickening thud, sending him stumbling.

Malfoy yelled in pain as he stumbled, but reacted quickly, throwing himself at his attacker before he could be stopped. Harry gasped in shock as he was tackled fiercely, falling backwards into the river. Fully soaked he lashed out, his fist connecting with Malfoy's face. The water was shallow, but Harry's efforts to stand up were quickly squashed, as Malfoy pushed him back down again. Harry lashed out again as Malfoy forced his face underwater, holding him down with his knees.

A sense of déja vu came over him, remembering Snape doing the same, as he struggled furiously, clawing at Malfoy for release. His struggles became less, his mind seemed to cloud over as his chest burned, Malfoy's heavy weight on his body increasing.

Desperate for air, he did the only thing that made sense, and he stopped fighting, letting his arms fall limp at his side.

Malfoy froze, before slowly removing his hand from Harry's face, swearing as he stood up. Harry reacted fast, and lashed out with his foot, feeling it connect with his enemy's stomach. Harry dragged himself up, taking a great gasp of air as he forced himself to his feet as quickly as he could, drawing his fist back. He stepped forward through the water, throwing his fist at Malfoy as hard as his tired body would allow him. Malfoy yelled loudly in pain, and Harry hit him again, blood spurting from his enemy's nose as his fist made contact. He made a run for it, dashing past Malfoy, who was clutching his face momentarily.

He had reached the riverbank when Malfoy caught hold of his arm, pulling him back painfully. Harry gasped loudly as Malfoy punched him hard, and he struck back desperately, struggling for release. He swung again, just as Malfoy managed to draw his wand from within his robes. Malfoy quickly stepped away from his opponent, and waved his wand erratically.

The spell's force hit Harry hard, throwing him backwards a few feet as he cried out in shock. He landed hard on the ground, hitting his head painfully. Harry lay still for a moment as a crushing feeling engulfed his chest. Harry groaned loudly as he tried to draw breath, but couldn't. He forced himself to roll over, desperately trying to breathe as he heard Malfoy tentatively approaching.

"Come on, Potter," he said, almost sympathetically.

"Don't make this any harder on yourself."

Harry grimaced as he again tried to draw breath, the crushing pain in his chest only increasing as despair welled up inside of him. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat, in his head. He looked up, and immediately saw his way out. Ignoring Malfoy, he forced himself to move forward, and grasping a large rock in his hand.

"Just get up!" Draco hissed at him, oblivious to his intentions.

"Draco!" somebody in the distance yelled.

Malfoy turned on the spot, still keeping his wand on Harry. "Father! I've got him!"

Malfoy turned back to Harry, still struggling for breath on the ground.

"Come on, get up!" he hissed, bending down and grabbing Harry's hand, pulling him roughly to his feet.

Halfway to standing Harry twisted around, and swung the rock at Malfoy's head, hearing with satisfaction the sickening thud. Malfoy let go of him with a slight yell, before slumping to the ground unconscious.

Harry lost balance and he too fell to the ground, taking a great gasp of air as the curse was lifted. Wasting no time to look for Malfoy's wand, he scrambled to his feet and took off running, splashing through the shallow water. His feet slipped haphazardly over the riverbed as dizziness threatened to overwhelm him.

He glanced back as he reached the opposite bank, stumbling as Lucius Malfoy appeared at the edge of the trees. Harry turned away and kept running, thinking of nothing except escaping. His heart pounded in his throat as adrenaline surged through his body, darting in between the dense trees and bushes. Suddenly he gasped loudly, stopping in his tracks and clutching his hand to his arm. He glanced down at his forearm as the Dark Mark darkened, burning painfully.

Back at the river Lucius Malfoy approached his son, realizing what had happened. He looked up at the opposite bank, catching a glimpse of Potter darting out of sight. A thin smile curled on his mouth, seeing the way to redeem himself in the eyes of his master. His pulled up his left sleeve and touched his finger to the Dark Mark, before setting off at a run.


	34. Chapter 34

Sirius stared vacantly out the kitchen window of the Burrow, looking out into the dark backyard as he washed the dishes by hand. He put the soapy dishes in the draining rack to let them dry, as Tonks bustled around him wordlessly, putting away various things. He briefly looked up at his cousin, who tonight was again sporting shoulder length pink hair. Catching his look, she stopped what she was doing.

"What is it?" she inquired curiously.

Sirius quickly turned away and looked back into the sink, mumbling a quick reply. "Nothing."

Tonks frowned, but resumed packing away the dinner things. Sirius looked down into the warm, soapy water, his hands relaxing for a moment as he became lost in thought. The recollection of a distant memory found its way into his head, and he found himself remembering what his godson had been like as a small child.

_Sirius grinned, his dark hair falling gracefully around his face as he leaned over the young boy, who lay patiently on the changing table. He let Harry grasp hold of each of his thumbs, before he spoke in a low and tantalizing voice._

"One…two…three!"

He straightened up quickly, pulling Harry to his feet amongst shrieks of childish laughter. Sirius' heart swelled as Harry grinned up at him with his new teeth, almost jumping up and down with excitement. Suddenly he turned serious, looking at his godfather with an almost business-like stare, before going limp and falling back onto the soft changing table. Sirius leant over him again, repeating the process of their new game.

"One…" he said, and Harry smiled widely.

"Two…" he continued, causing Harry to writhe and grin with excitement.

"Three!" Harry squealed and shrieked with laughter as Sirius again pulled him to his feet. He held on tight to Sirius' thumbs, waving them about as he bounced up and down, laughter still filling his face. Slowly he quieted and leant comfortably up against Sirius, tired of this new game. He released Sirius' thumbs and grasped the material of his jacket with one hand, the other warily prodding the drawstring of the jacket hood.

Sirius too sobered down slightly, rubbing his free hand soothingly across his godson's back. He gently patted the child's back, watching as he hesitantly put the end of the drawstring into his mouth, sucking it gently. He knew he should have reprimanded Harry, for putting foreign things into his mouth, but he stayed silent, not wanting to ruin his fun.

Harry looked up at him, his emerald eyes sparkling with the simple curiosity that could only amuse a child. He put his free hand to his mouth and pulled out the drawstring, offering it to Sirius to taste.

Sirius pulled a face, not wanting to taste the drool on his drawstring. Harry looked at him persistently, jigging up and down with insistence. Reluctantly Sirius bent his head down, taking the moist string in his mouth. He pulled a face as Harry smiled, revealing his teeth. Sirius spat the string out, watching with another smile as Harry's eyes opened wide with disbelief.

Frowning, Harry reached across and grasped the end of the string, holding it up to Sirius again. Holding back a laugh, Sirius again took it into his mouth, holding it there for a moment before spitting it out again. Harry whined with impatience as he again picked up the string, thrusting it at his godfather.

Sirius sighed as he took the piece of string into his mouth again, before slinging a hand firmly around Harry, picking him up from the table and quickly spitting the string out. Harry relaxed against his chest as Sirius carried him downstairs, and almost wouldn't let go when he was put down. However he quickly crawled away, searching underneath the furniture for some sign of the cat as Sirius leaned casually against the dining room table.

Sirius dragged himself back to reality, staring at his hands in the soapy sink as he idly continued washing the dinner plates. He looked up at the window above the sink, watching Tonks' reflection as she continued putting things away, organizing the kitchen for Mrs. Weasley. He knew he could ask Tonks this burning question, he knew she would answer him honestly, even if neither of them really wanted to hear it.

"Tonks," he muttered, getting her attention.

"Yeah?" she replied, craning her neck around to see him.

He paused briefly, knowing that he probably didn't want to know the answer to his question. But he asked anyway.

"They're not going to let him go," he said lowly, referring to Harry. "Are they?"

He watched Tonks' reflection as she hesitated, not knowing how to answer such a sensitive question.

"Sirius, we just have to-"

"Stay positive," he interrupted. "Yeah, I know. That's what everyone keeps saying."

"They keep saying it for a reason, Sirius."

Sirius fell silent, trying to form an argument to this, trying to formulate words for what he needed to know. He drew in a deep shuddering breath as he leant against the kitchen sink, his head bowed in defeat.

"Tonks, I just need you to be straight with me," he said lowly. "Even if it's not what I want to hear."

"Sirius, I don-"

"You're an Auror Tonks. You look at things like this differently, it's your job," Sirius said bitterly, not hearing what she had begun to say. "They're not going to let him go, are they?"

"You want to know, what I think," Tonks replied, verifying what he was trying to say.

"Yeah." He hesitated before continuing. "And please don't 'sugar coat' it like Remus does."

"He's just trying to make things easier," Tonks' protested softly.

"Yeah, I know," Sirius replied quickly. "I know he's trying to make things easier."

He turned away from the sink, straightening up. "I just need to know, what's really going on, Tonks. Please just be straight with me."

Tonks stared at the kitchen floor, knowing that her words were not what her cousin wanted to hear. She raised her head, looking anywhere but at him.

"From an Auror's point of view, not everything adds up."

She quickly glanced at him, waiting for his reaction. When there was none, she continued softly.

"They made demands, and we met them exactly. Normally they would have made more demands, or have negotiated his return. The only thing they've done is prove that he's still alive."

"So what does that say to you?" Sirius said hesitantly.

Tonks looked away again, not wanting to meet his eyes. The weight of her words seemed to settle on her chest, and she could feel the nervous pound of her heart. She swallowed thickly, and continued.

"It says to me that," she paused, blinking back the burning feeling behind her eyes, as all the worries and emotions of that week came rushing back to her. "That they're not going to let him go, and that they never intended to."

Sirius turned back to the sink, leaning heavily on it as he chewed his lip, letting out a low breath. He stayed silent for a moment, before speaking again.

"Well, why would they go to the trouble of making demands?"

"I'm not sure. But Sirius, this isn't a normal kidnapping, where you pay a ransom, and then everything goes back to normal. These are Death Eaters we're talking about, they don't need money, or any kind of ransom."

"But then why? Why go to all this trouble?"

"Sirius, can't you see what they really want?" Tonks said, slightly desperately.

"That's not exactly what's been on my mind Tonks,"

"They're after information," she replied gently. "Information that Harry probably has, and-"

"They'll stop at nothing, to get it," Sirius finished.

"Yeah," Tonks said grimly.

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, neither of them quite knowing what to say. Sirius looked blankly into the sink, his cousin's words going through his head at a hundred miles an hour. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Tonks' words made sense, what did the Death Eaters have to gain by letting Harry go?

"It's going to have to be us," Sirius said. "It's up to us, to get him back."

Tonks paused for a moment, before she replied. "Yeah."

Sirius turned away from the sink, drying his hands on the legs of his jeans. He leaned against the sink facing Tonks, the urge to keep talking pressing at him.

"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind this summer."

"Well," Tonks said sarcastically. "I would hope not."

Sirius laughed softly, seeing her point. "I had so much planned, things were going so well. Especially his birthday."

"Have you seen the photos Arthur has?" Tonks asked with a smile. "There are some really great ones."

"Yeah, there are," Sirius agreed quietly.

They fell into another uncomfortable silence, the two cousins feeling strangely awkward around each other. Sirius resumed the washing up, and Tonks went back to tidying up the kitchen, both of them avoiding each other's gaze.

Sirius stared into the sink as he scrubbed the roasting pan, wondering briefly why he wasn't using magic to clean it. He breathed in deeply, trying to clear his head as thoughts rushed through it. He thought he had freaked out when Harry was in that accident, but that was nothing compared to now. Sirius clenched his eyes shut for a moment, his body reminding him of how much sleep he had lost, of how mentally and physically exhausted he was."

Anger quickly began bubbling up inside of him again, furious about the injustice of the situation. Life for Harry was complicated enough, he didn't need things like this. None of them did.

Sirius scrubbed at the baking dish, venting his anger and frustration onto the burnt pieces of food when somebody called out frantically from the lounge room.

"Oi! Tonks get in here!"

Tonks glanced at Sirius, her eyes wide open as she quickly left the kitchen. Sirius followed, his heart pounding as he and Tonks entered the living area. Charlie stepped forward and urgently thrust something into Tonks' hand. She looked at him questioningly, before glancing down at the paper in her hand.

"It came out of the fireplace," Charlie explained. "It just came flying out."

"What is it?" Sirius said imperatively as he made to look over Tonks' shoulder. Catching his movements, she pressed the piece of parchment against her chest, shielding it from his eyes. He noticed she was shaking.

"Ginny," Tonks said, her voice quivering slightly. "Go get the Aurors outside."

"The Aurors?" Sirius said as Ginny rushed outside, nearly knocking over her mother as she entered. "Tonks what is it?"

Tonks looked at him wide eyes, an internal battle raging in her mind. Before she could decide what to say, Sirius swiftly grabbed the parchment from her grasp and looked down at it. The bottom seemed to drop out of his stomach as he realized what it actually was, and the pounding of his heart increased. He watched the photo as Harry's arm was forced out, followed by a brief flash of light. The Death Eaters who had been restraining him released him, before Bellatrix kicked him hard in the face, sending him to the ground.

Sirius swore under his breath, and thrust the photo into the hands of the nearest Auror. He moved past Mrs. Weasley and rushed through the back door, breathing the warm summer air as he stumbled into the backyard, his heart pounding, thoughts rushing through his head.

Sirius collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he tried to remove what he had just seen from his mind. He pressed his hands to his head as hard as he could, trying desperately to remove the image of his godson from his mind. But he could still see him, he could still see the dark mark as it formed on his arm, the relief on Harry's face as he was released, and the bloodstains on his face and body.

He let out a frustrated yell as anger coursed through his body, stronger than he had felt it for a long time.

"Are you sure of this information, Narcissa?" Lord Voldemort asked emotionlessly.

"Yes, my Lord," Narcissa Malfoy replied nervously.

"Lucius saw the boy late yesterday afternoon.

"I assume he is following Potter?"

"Yes, my Lord, he is waiting for whatever you command."

Voldemort sat in silence for a moment, the small circle of Death Eaters remained still in the early sunshine of Sunday morning. The corner of his mouth turned upwards in a hint of a smile, as he sat in deep thought. The boy would be coming back, that much was obvious, but how long would it be until he finally cracked?

He had not anticipated this level of rebellion from Potter, and he had quickly tired of it. He knew if he wanted information any time soon, then he would have to go to the next extreme. Potter could cope with his own suffering, he had shown that, but could he cope with another's?

Making his decision, Voldemort raised his head, his eyes scanning the Death Eaters, halting briefly at each one who had failed him one way or another. His eyes fell on the youngest of the group, his bruised and swollen face standing out in the light that seeped through the boarded up windows. Draco Malfoy's idiocy had allowed Potter to escape again, whether or not he was heading straight into a trap. He pushed away the desire to punish Malfoy, remembering that he had more important things to organize.

"Bella," he said.

"Yes, my Lord?" she replied, stepping forward from her place, and pulling back the hood of her cloak, so that she could be clearly seen.

"Contact Greyback," Voldemort said. "Tell him he did such a good job on Bill Weasley, that I require his services again."

"I will. What else should I tell him, Lord?" Bellatrix replied.

Voldemort paused, the right words coming to mind. "Tell him to switch places with Lucius Malfoy. Tell him to keep following Potter at a distance, and await my next command."

"Yes my Lord," she replied, before quickly leaving, determined to follow her master's orders exactly.

Voldemort again paused, carefully choosing the faithful Death Eater who would do his bidding. He spotted the figure of Severus Snape, who had proved himself worthy more than once, and smiled gently.

"Snape, there is another that I need you to bring in."

"Yes, my Lord," he replied as he too, stepped forward into the circle, pulling back the hood of his cloak to reveal his face.

"Good," Voldemort said simply. "Pay a visit to Percy Weasley, I'm sure he will be most helpful."

Snape nodded, and asked expressionlessly. "Who is it, that you want me to bring in?"

Voldemort smiled, and leaned back into his chair comfortably. "Severus, I'm sure you heard about Hogwarts' golden couple."

"Yes, I did my Lord," Snape replied, realizing who it was.

Catching the curious and unsure faces of the other Death Eaters, Voldemort elaborated.

"Ginny Weasley."


	35. Chapter 35

The smell of burnt jam erupted into the kitchen as Ginny opened the door to the magical oven, after it had started yelling out 'Burning! Burning!'. Ginny growled in frustration as she pulled on an oven mitt, and removed the two trays that were inside. She groaned as she saw the blackened jam drops she had been making, and glared at them momentarily, as though it were their fault she had forgotten about them.

"Ginevra!" her mother scolded with frustration. "I told you to be more careful."

Ginny withheld a groan as her mother entered the kitchen, scrutinizing the cookies with a grimace. Her mother had been in and out of the kitchen all day, refusing to believe that Ginny was capable of cooking something herself.

'She did have a point' Ginny thought glumly to herself.

She had been cooking since late that morning, trying to distract herself from what was going on, but had soon realized that she wasn't the great cook she had hoped to be. From the chocolate cake that hadn't risen, to the caramel slice that rivaled Hagrid's in terms of hardness. And now she had burnt the jam drops.

"I was careful!" Ginny protested, even though she knew her mother was right.

"Obviously not enough," Mrs. Weasley replied as she filled the kettle.

"Well it's not my fault! The oven didn't tell me they were burning until it was too late."

"Well darling, it's not that hard to keep track of ten minutes," Mrs. Weasley said. "You shouldn't need the oven to tell you when things are ready."

Ginny clenched her mouth shut, biting back the smart remark that would probably earn her another scolding.

"Well, could you please fix them," Ginny asked through clenched teeth.

"No," Mrs. Weasley replied shortly.

"Why not?" Ginny replied in dismay. "You've done it before."

"I won't always be here to fix your mistakes, young lady," Mrs. Weasley answered firmly. "Just make some more."

"But can't yo-"

"That's enough," Mrs. Weasley interrupted with frustration as she made to leave the kitchen. "You can make some more, or you can eat the burnt ones. Easy as that."

"Now?" Ginny exclaimed. "It's past eight! Any other time I want to make something you say no!"

"Well, now I'm saying yes," Mrs. Weasley replied wearily, as she tied the strings of her dressing gown.

"But Mum!" Ginny whined.

"Ginny! I said that's enough!" her mother snapped. "You can make more, or you can't. It's up to you! And you still haven't put away the chickens like I told you to earlier!"

Ginny sighed, her heart sinking slightly. "Mum! Why do I always have to do it! Why can't Ron do it?"

"Ronald already has his own chores,"

"But can't we swap?"

"No! I want them put away before you go to bed."

Mrs. Weasley turned sharply and left the kitchen before their fight could continue. Fuming, Ginny stood in the kitchen, very much desiring to throw the burnt drops at the wall. She pondered for a moment, as to whether or not she should make some more, when she found herself already measuring out a cup of flour and taking a fresh egg out of the basket.

She stirred the ingredients together vigorously, taking out her frustrations on the dough. She added the correct amount of sugar to the mixture, and then continued stirring, reciting in her head exactly what she would have liked to say to her mother.

Ginny ignored her mother as she came back in and made herself a cup of tea, before silently leaving the kitchen. Ginny watched as her mother left her sight, then grabbed a teaspoon from the drawer. Knowing that her mother wasn't watching, she dipped it into the bowl, before tasting the raw dough.

'This is the best bit,' she thought to herself as she took another spoonful. Reluctantly she began spooning the mixture onto the trays, and carefully put them in the oven. She looked at her watch, mentally marking ten minutes. She couldn't let herself forget this time.

Ginny smiled gently as she remembered that Harry loved her mother's jam drops, which was why Ginny had chosen that recipe in the first place. She leant against the kitchen bench, staring vacantly at the oven door, where the drops were cooking. It was strange, that a week since Harry went missing, it still felt completely unreal, like any moment he would walk through the back door, his Firebolt slung over his shoulder, his face alive with radiance.

Tears sprung up behind Ginny's eyes, and she clenched her eyes shut, determined not to cry again. There had already been too much of it this week.

She opened her eyes and looked out into the backyard, seeing the chickens that were still roaming around in their pen. Ginny checked her watch, before she reluctantly opened the back door, walking out into the warm summer evening. She clenched her jaws together to make sure that she didn't start crying again, and approached the chicken enclosure.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark as she opened the gate and stepped inside, her joggers sinking slightly into the soft earth. She quickly grabbed the closest chicken, carrying it over to the hen house, determined to make quick work of the chore, and to not burn her drops.

Soon the only one left was the rooster, which she had purposely left until last. She tried in vain, to simply herd it into the hen house, but with no luck. Finally, she unwillingly grabbed it, and before it could make an escape, she dropped in into the hen house amongst a flurry of feathers.

Ginny quickly left the enclosure, latching the gate firmly shut so as to not let any foxes in over night. She closed her eyes and leant against the wire door, taking a moment to herself, a moment away from burnt food and missing boyfriends. She remembered briefly, the night she had kissed Harry when they had put the chickens away together. She had thought things were complicated then, but they were nothing compared to now.

She felt the tears welling up behind her eyes again, but she did nothing to stop them from falling. She lowered herself to the ground as she felt her throat and chest tighten, and she brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. She sobbed quietly for a few moments, feeling as though a deep poison was slowly been sucked out of her.

She slowly calmed, and immediately regretted her tears as she realized she had given herself a headache. She released her knees and stretched them out in front of her, raising her head to look up at the starry sky, automatically looking for various constellations.

The fresh air soothed her headache as Ginny relaxed for a few minutes, staring vacantly up at the night's sky. She closed her eyes gently, enjoying the peacefulness, enjoying the time alone. She remembered dimly that it was her birthday this coming Thursday, four days away.

'Some birthday that will be,' she thought glumly to herself.

She remained still for a few more minutes, before she suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. She opened her eyes and sat up straight, looking around as she continued to feel uneasy. Something in the trees a few yards away caught her attention, and she stared at it for a few moments, trying to make out what it was.

Her pulse began to quicken as she realized it was the silhouette of someone. She hesitantly got to her feet, straining her eyes to see it more clearly.

'Stop over-reacting,' she thought to herself. 'It's just a shadow.'

She took a few timid steps towards the house, not taking her eyes off the silhouette in the trees. They didn't move, and Ginny shook her head, laughing at herself as she turned toward the house. She breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she had over-reacted again. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts as she strolled back to the house, hoping she hadn't let the jam drops burn again.

A twig snapped behind her, and she spun around quickly, barely seeing the tall figure that had approached her. She screamed loudly as they grabbed hold of her roughly, covering her mouth with their hand.

Fear pounded through her as she struggled furiously, throwing her arms and legs everywhere in her attempt to get away. She forced the hand away from her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could, remembering her mother's words from many years ago.

"If you're ever attacked, Ginevra, make sure you scream loud enough for Merlin to hear."

"Get off me!" she screamed, still struggling against the person's hold. "Mum! Help me!"

She saw with relief as bedroom lights flickered on in the windows of The Burrow, and she screamed again, begging for help. Suddenly her attacker released her, and for one fleeting moment she thought it was over.

But they pushed her hard, and she fell painfully to the ground. She screwed up her eyes and choked as dirt was kicked into her face, blinding her temporarily.

The figure bent down, grasping hold of her arm tightly as she heard the sound of the back door bursting open. Suddenly an awful compressing feeling took over her body and she began to panic even more. She tried to scream again, but no sound came out. Just when she couldn't take it any more, she was released from the compression and drew in a great breath.

Ginny lashed out again as somebody grabbed hold of her, dragging her to her feet.

"Get off me!" she screamed. "Get off me!"

She opened her smarting eyes as another figure also grabbed hold of her, and the two dragged her up a set of stone steps. She continued struggling furiously and screaming, as they dragged her through the open doors of a grand house towards the only source of light. She caught a glimpse of somebody sitting in a high-backed armchair before the two Death Eaters threw her to the floor, not caring if they hurt her.

"I have done what you asked of me, my Lord," a voice she recognized as Professor Snape's. She twisted around to look at him, and realized with a sinking heart that it was him, who had taken her.

"Thank you, Severus," a high, cold voice said. "You will be rewarded highly."

Ginny raised her head, and horror filled her, as she fully realized what was happening.

"My, my, my," Voldemort said softly. "Ginny Weasley. You were always a feisty one."

Ginny looked back at the ground as tears spilled from her eyes, her whole body shaking with terror.

"You'll have to excuse my lack of hospitality, Miss Weasley, but I'm afraid this isn't a social visit."

"Where's Harry?" she managed to choke out through her tears.

Voldemort's lip curled slightly before he answered. "I'm afraid we managed to let him escape, temporarily."

Voldemort looked away from her, looking at the circle of Death Eaters that had just formed.

"Well, Death Eaters, it's time to bring our guest back. Dolohov, put her in the corner. I don't want Potter to see, nor hear her when he is brought in."

"Yes, my Lord," Dolohov said, and he immediately approached Ginny, dragging her over to a corner, before performing a few complex spells to hide her.

"The rest of you," Voldemort continued. " Let Greyback do the honors, but I want Potter alive. Make sure he doesn't kill the boy."

"Yes, my Lord," the Death Eaters murmured obediently.

"Good," Voldemort replied. "Get to it then."


	36. Chapter 36

Harry raised his face to the sky, letting the drops of rain land on his face, giving him the feeling of being somewhat refreshed. He stopped walking for a moment as the rain fell steadily. He allowed himself a few moments of relaxation before he continued walking.

He folded his arm across his stomach as he walked, pressing gently in an attempt to alleviate the strong hunger and thirst that he felt. A wave of dizziness swept over him for a moment, and he leant against a close by tree for support. When the dizziness had passed, he straightened himself up, and forced himself to move on.

It had been raining for a while, and it hadn't taken long for Harry to become soaked and chilled to the bone. He rubbed his upper arms, trying to warm them through his soaked clothing, but his extremities were already feeling numb with cold. He raised his hands in front of his face, seeing them in the light from the crescent moon. His hands and arms looked like a pale shade of grey, the droplets of water standing out clearly.

Brushing back the wet hair from his face, he stopped for a moment, turning on the spot, carefully looking around him. Even through the noise of the rain, he was sure that he had heard somebody behind him. Or was he just imagining things?

When nothing obvious caught his attention, he continued on his path, mentally shaking his head. He wondered briefly if he was going crazy, if his hunger was making him hallucinate, and hear things that weren't there.

He suddenly remembered with a pang, that it would be Ginny's birthday on the eleventh, and wondered in awe how long it had been since he had been taken. The way things were looking he wouldn't be back for her birthday. He hoped momentarily, that Sirius would somehow find the gift that he had already brought for her. Hidden beneath his bed were a new pair of women's Quidditch gloves, and a beaded bracelet that Ginny had hinted she liked.

There it was again! Harry stopped in his tracks, now completely sure that he wasn't imagining things. Straining his eyes, he turned around slowly, but wasn't able to see very much in the dark without his glasses.

Something hard and heavy slammed into his body, pushing him to the ground. He felt all the breath leave his body, as the powerful smell of sweat, dirt, and blood overrode his senses. Harry struggled desperately against Greyback, but the werewolf easily over powered him, pinning him to the ground.

Harry yelled as Greyback clawed at his chest, his wounds feeling as though they were on fire. Harry struggled against the massive weight that was restricting his breaths, and Greyback clawed at his face and stomach mercilessly. He pulled his arm out from under his body where it had been pinned, and thrust his thumb hard into Greyback's eye.

The werewolf yelled in pain, releasing Harry momentarily, and he seized his chance. Harry pulled himself from under the werewolf made to run, but had only gone a few steps when Greyback grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face him before pinning his victim to the ground again. Suddenly a bright flash of light hit Greyback square on, forcing him away from Harry, moments after regaining the upper hand. Not caring where the flash of light came from, Harry dragged himself to his feet again, and bolted, ignoring the white hot pain that flooded the wounds Greyback had left.

Harry darted through the trees, their twigs and branches scratching at him, but he barely felt them as he ran. The ground sloped suddenly and he stumbled, trying to compensate for the change. Thunder crashed overhead, and the bolt of lightning that followed seemed to light the whole area, showing him where to go.

When he looked over his shoulder and saw nobody following him, relief washed over him. He slowed to a stop and leaned against a tree. He lowered himself to the ground, gasping breaths of air. Pressing his palm gently to his chest, he winced at the pain. He nearly yelled in frustration when he saw the blood seeping through his clothing. He realized he was trembling in shock, and noticed the other wounds on his arms and neck, each of them steadily bleeding.

A jet of red light flash just above his head, missing him by mere inches. Harry immediately pulled himself to his feet and began running again, not bothering to find out who had sent the curse his way. The rain pounded down as he dashed through the dense trees, obscuring his vision so badly that he almost didn't see the Death Eater that appeared in the trees just ahead of him.

He ducked as another jet of red light soared in his direction, and made to continue running, his heart pounding wildly as panic flooded his mind. He stopped dead in his tracks as another Death Eater appeared ahead of him. He spun around on the spot, looking desperately for a way out as more Death Eaters appeared, surrounding him on all sides as thunder crashed.

Everybody seemed to freeze for a moment, none of them believing he had been caught so easily. Quickly, someone grabbed him from behind and he lashed out at them, trying hopelessly to get away. He yelled furiously as another Death Eater grabbed hold of him, subduing him as the shouts of Rudolphus Lestrange echoed through the forest near him.

"What did we tell you!? The Dark Lord said not to kill him!"

"I barely hurt him!" Greyback roared back.

A hand grasped Harry's arms tightly, and he felt himself being apparated before he could do anything to stop it. He was quickly released from the sensation, and he felt his knees buckle from the shock. He tried to break away from the strong grasp, when he found himself on the front steps of the Riddle Manor. Loud cracks echoed through the air as the other Death Eaters arrived, their wands pointed solely at him.

He fought furiously as they grabbed hold of him again, throwing the front doors open and half dragging him through. They brought him into the largest room, releasing him, and throwing him to the ground with a sharp slap to his face. He landed on the ground hard, frozen, and shivering in shock as he drew in great ragged breaths.

"Hello, Harry," a harsh voice said. "Welcome back."

For a moment, Harry looked up into the eyes of Voldemort, before he looked back down at the ground, forcing himself into a half sitting position. He kept his eyes downcast, refusing to look at Voldemort, anger and despair flooding through his body. He couldn't believe he had let himself get caught again.

"You aren't going to try that again, are you?" Voldemort said coldly.

Harry stared at the ground, refusing to answer. Voldemort flicked his wand lazily, and Harry gasped loudly, clenching his hands into fists as a great pain shot across his back.

"Are you?" Voldemort said again, not as a question, but as a statement. Harry gasped again as Voldemort flicked his wand. He clenched his jaws together as he tried to bite back another gasp of pain, and he tensed his body, trying to alleviate the pain.

"Answer me! Imperio!"

The Imperious curse hit him suddenly, giving him no chance to prepare himself. He instantly felt his body relaxing as all thought was wiped from his mind. The overwhelming urge to answer 'no' seized him, and he struggled to resist, but he couldn't. He couldn't sum up the energy, and he instantly submitted to Voldemort's will.

"No," he said softly.

Satisfied, Voldemort lifted the curse, the pain and realization of his situation rushed back to Harry all at once. He swayed on the spot as he struggled to keep calm, realizing fully that Voldemort had overpowered him yet again.

"Tell me the contents of the prophecy," Voldemort ordered, knowing that he would have his answer by the end of the evening.

"No," Harry replied bluntly. He tried to prepare himself, knowing Voldemort would use the imperious curse on him again. He kicked himself inwardly for submitting to the curse, vowing not to let it happen again.

"Tell me, Imperio."

The sensation engulfed him again, and the memory of Trelawney reciting the prophecy  
floated into his mind. He tried to get it over with quickly, before he had a proper chance  
of submitting.

'No,' he thought to himself fiercely. 'Just answer no.'

"No," he said firmly, more to himself than anyone else. Voldemort stepped forward angrily, raising his wand.

"What was that?" he asked, almost sounding polite and curious.

"I said no!" Harry answered, his anger getting the better of him. Not that he cared.

"Imperio!"

"No!" Harry said loudly, before he even had a chance to feel the curse's sensations.

Voldemort flicked his wand at Harry, his anger growing. He had thought for a moment that the boy was going to submit to his will, only to have him fighting back even stronger than before.

Harry clenched his fists and jaws together, managing to withhold his gasp of pain. He began to feel light headed, and looked down towards the newest wounds on his chest, arms and stomach. He breathed a momentary sigh of relief that although they hurt like hell, they had stopped bleeding, being rather shallow.

Harry looked up at Voldemort for a moment, who was studying him blankly.

"How much more persuasion do you need, Potter?" he asked tonelessly.

"Obviously, a lot more," Harry replied, looking back down at the ground. "I'm not telling you anything."

Voldemort considered the reply for a moment, before coming to his decision. He looked towards Rodolphus Lestrange, and gave a small nod, clearly conveying his message.

Harry looked up slightly as Rodolphus left the circle, and met eyes with the shortest member of the group. Peter Pettigrew stared at him wide-eyed as though he had never seen him before, shaking from head to foot. Pettigrew looked from Harry to Voldemort, then back to Harry, obviously strung between two allegiances. Voldemort caught the looked that Pettigrew gave Harry, but his eyes moved on and he seemed not to have noticed.

"Is there anything you'd like to change your mind about, Harry?" Voldemort said casually, the Death Eaters quickly forming a large gap in the circle as Rodolphus re-entered the room.

Harry looked sideways and saw with horror, Ginny being dragged into the circle. His heart plummeted as he saw her, and he immediately made to jump towards her.

"Ginny!"

Two Death Eaters leapt forward at him, pulling him away from her and covering his mouth as he began panicking. Harry struggled furiously against them, and Ginny began to cry, her tears spilling onto Rodolphus' hand as he held it over her mouth, his other hand holding his wand against her throat.

"Tell me the prophecy," Voldemort said simply. "Or she dies, right now."

Somebody had clasped their hand over his mouth, and he screamed through it, struggling as he tried to communicate his message of submission to Voldemort.

"What was that?" Voldemort asked mockingly. "Kill her?"

Panic overrode Harry at these words, and he struggled harder shaking his head 'no'.

"Oh," Voldemort said. "Well let's have some fun, while you make your decision."

Voldemort turned from Harry and faced Ginny, her eyes wide with fear. Tears still streaming down her face as she shook considerably.

"Crucio!"

Ginny collapsed to the ground, her screams piercing through Harry like nothing before. Harry lashed out in anger and fear, and one of the Death Eaters let go of him in shock.

"Stop it!" he screamed. "Stop it! I'll tell you!"

Voldemort lowered his wand and the curse was lifted, only moments after it had been cast. Ginny lay on the ground sobbing and trembling. Rodolphus bent down and dragged her back to her knees, pointing his wand at her throat again. Voldemort turned towards Harry, thoroughly satisfied.

"You will tell me what the prophecy entails?" Voldemort asked quietly.

"Yes," Harry answered. "But you have to let her go."

"Why would I do that?" Voldemort asked in a mocking tone. "She's such good company."

"If you don't let her go, I'm not telling you anything," Harry said. He no longer cared about what information he gave up, only that Ginny was safe. He looked over to her, and she shook her head at him, clearly saying 'don't tell him.'

Voldemort considered the boy's proposition, knowing it would only be too easy to bring her, or somebody else back whenever he so desired.

"You tell me the contents of the prophecy, and my faithful Death Eaters will return her to her family home."

"Unharmed?" Harry questioned, his heart pounding in his chest, knowing Ginny's life depended on what he said and did.

"Completely," Voldemort replied.

Harry looked down at the ground. He knew that he couldn't trust Voldemort, but he had no choice. He couldn't let Ginny die for something that Voldemort would only find out eventually.

"I can't remember it exactly," Harry began softly. He didn't look up, but he knew that every eye in the room was fixed solely on himself. "But it meant, that the only person with a chance at killing you, would be born at the end of July. To parents who had already defied you three times."

"And to who, did it refer?" Voldemort asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"To me," Harry replied. He looked towards Ginny for a moment, her eyes wide in shock. He remembered briefly that she did not know the contents of the prophecy yet herself.

Voldemort stared down at Potter. If what the boy was saying was true, then he was the only one who could kill him. The sudden urge to kill the boy loomed over his head, but he forced it away using his better judgment. He decided to make the most of his obvious advantage.

"What do the order members discuss during meetings?"

Harry's pounding heart sank in his chest, having no idea what the members discussed during meetings.

"I don't know," he replied truthfully.

"Yes, you do."

"No," Harry replied firmly. "They never let me in. They never tell me anything."

Voldemort paused, considering the truthfulness of the boy's words. Seeing Voldemort pause, Harry continued.

"Am I really in a position to lie?"

"In that case," Voldemort replied. "Where did Dumbledore go, during his absences from Hogwarts."

Harry laughed shortly, masking the jolt of panic that shot through his body. He looked up at Voldemort incredulously

"Do you really think Dumbledore told me that kind of stuff?" he lied. "He never told me anything. He could have been on holidays in Hawaii for all I know."

Harry looked Voldemort in the eye as he said this, praying to Merlin that he didn't give himself away. Voldemort looked away from Harry and stared at Ginny, who was still shaking from his curse. He remembered briefly of how she had poured her innermost thoughts into the diary, in which he had preserved his sixteen year old self in. He smiled and raised his wand at her.

"Crucio!"

Ginny collapsed to the floor again, screaming in agony as Harry began struggling against his captives captors, begging Voldemort to stop.

"Stop it!" he screamed again. "I don't know, ask me something else, just stop it!"

Voldemort relaxed his wand, lifting the curse from Ginny, who again lay on the ground trembling and sobbing. Harry let out a shaky breath and looked at Ginny as she was being pulled to her knees again. Her face was stark white, tears rolling steadily down her cheeks. He looked away, feeling as though he himself would break down if he continued looking at her.

"What did Dumbledore tell you, during your meetings?" Voldemort asked tonelessly.

Harry paused, deciding on the truth. "He told me about you, and your past."

"Go on," Voldemort prompted.

He hesitated, trying to decide how best to word his answer. "He told me about when you were born, and where you grew up. And he told me about the first time he met you."

"What else?" Voldemort prompted again, his patience growing thin.

"A bit about you at Hogwarts, and that's it."

Voldemort stared at Harry, who refused to meet his eyes. He knew for sure that there was more that he wasn't being told. But he decided not to push the matter. There would be plenty of time for that. For now he had to let the girl go, or Potter would never give information in the future.

He turned to Rodolphus, who held a tight grip on the girl. "Well Rodolphus, take our guest back to her home."

Harry breathed an obvious sigh of relief and looked towards Ginny. Her eyes were filled with terror as Rodolphus pulled her to her feet. She looked at Harry, terrified of going home and leaving him here.

"No!" she cried as she struggled against Rodolphus.

"No, Harry! Please come with me!"

Harry turned away, breathing shallowly as his throat and chest began to constrict. He felt as though he were about to break down at any moment, her cries for him only making it worse. He saw from the corner of his eye Voldemort turning his wand on him, as though fearing he would try and run to Ginny. Ginny however, was dragged from the room forcibly, just as Peter stepped forward. Torn between his allegiance to Lord Voldemort and the debt he owed to Harry, he didn't even realize that he had moved to shield Harry. Voldemort turned sharply, staring at Peter curiously.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green light shone through the room, and Peter Pettigrew crumpled to the floor, dead. Harry's heart seemed to skip a beat, and he froze in shock. He could hear Ginny screaming for him from the next room, screaming as though her life depended on it. Her screams quickly disappeared into the distance, and Voldemort began speaking. The Death Eaters stood rooted to the spot, shocked at the sudden murder.

"Peter Pettigrew was never completely loyal to my cause. He was merely a coward, hiding behind those who could look after him."

Voldemort stopped, and turned to Harry. "You don't really think I would have let him live much longer do you? Not while he is solely in your debt."

Harry tore his eyes away from Pettigrew, and looked at Voldemort, saying nothing. Voldemort turned away from him, his eyes scanning the circle, looking for a particular Death Eater.

"Draco," he said coldly.

"Yes, my Lord?" Draco replied, stepping forward into the circle and drawing back his hood. His skin seemed paler than usual, save for the large bruise on his face, and he was shaking considerably.

"Draco, the Dark Lord is very forgiving, but let me remind you of your mistakes. You failed to kill Dumbledore on numerous occasions, you let Potter escape, twice. You let him escape, even though you carried a wand, and were much stronger, is that correct?"

"Yes my Lord," Malfoy replied, his voice shaky. "It is."

Voldemort sneered, his lip curling up a little. "Draco, one mistake is forgivable. Two, is just plain stupid. But three is suicide."

The whole room was silent, waiting for the words that would end Draco's life. But they never came.

"Don't make your third," Voldemort said coldly.

"I won't, my Lord," Malfoy replied mechanically, before raising his hood and stepping backwards as though he had been burned.

Voldemort seemed to smile with satisfaction, then spoke again.

"Yaxley," Voldemort said.

"Yes my Lord?"

"Dispose of the body," he replied, gesturing to Peter.

Voldemort turned on the spot as Yaxley whipped out his wand, and sat down comfortably in his large armchair. He waited until the body had been levitated from the room before he continued.

"You have done well, Death Eaters, to bring back our guest. But it is not to happen again. I want at least one of you outside that room at all times."

There was a murmured assent around the room as the Death Eaters nodded, hardly daring to speak.

"Severus," Voldemort continued. "I don't want to see, nor hear from our guest for quite some time. See to it, would you?"

"Yes my Lord," he replied. "I understand."

Voldemort nodded in satisfaction, and looked around the circle again.

"You two," he said, looking at the two tallest Death Eaters. "Take the boy upstairs, and do what ever it is that Severus requires."

"Yes my Lord," they replied, before quickly approaching Harry.

His heart pounded again as they grabbed him roughly by each elbow, one of them flicking their wand and fastening his hands behind his back. He let them guide him roughly upstairs, Snape following behind them. Already the ropes had begun to rub against the skin on his arm, the skin that had only just begun healing.

His heart sank as they climbed the staircases, only now fully realizing that he was back to where he was before. He thought briefly of Ginny, and if she was okay. He pushed her to the back of his mind, trying not to think of the people he had left behind.

They reached the top floor, leading him into the dark room that he had been locked in previously. Snape followed them inside, closing the door. He conjured a large candle, which hung in the air, illuminating the room quite clearly. He approached Harry, who was still being tightly restrained, and pulled a small flask from the inside of his robes.

"Drink a mouthful of this," Snape commanded. He grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair, and tipped a large mouthful of the potion into the boy's open mouth. Harry sneered before spitting the sweet tasting potion out, covering Snape's face. Snape stepped back with a cry of rage, lashing out and hitting Harry.

The two Death Eaters holding him threw him to the ground, and he fell hard, unable to break his fall with his hands tied behind his back. Stars danced before his eyes as one of them kicked him in the face, his cheek feeling as though it were burning with pain.

The men knelt over him, holding him down forcefully as he struggled against them, not wanting to make this any easier for them than it already was. He felt Snape force his mouth open, and he nearly choked as he tipped more of the liquid into his mouth. His mouth and nose were tightly covered before he could spit it out, while he still fought against them furiously.

He tried to breathe in, but couldn't with the hand covering his mouth and nose. He quickly realized that he would have to swallow, or risk being suffocated. Harry struggled against them again, outraged at the ultimatum. Someone grasped a fistful of hair again, raising his head off the ground. They slammed it against the ground, repeating the action again until he could barely think.

He felt himself painfully swallowing, and was dimly aware of the three men releasing him and leaving the room. The door closed behind them and the candle disappeared, shrouding him in darkness.

Harry groaned loudly as he rolled over onto his side, trying to relieve the pain in the back of his head. He could feel himself losing consciousness, and could not muster the energy to fight it. Harry closed his eyes, and a few moments later, his world went black.


	37. Chapter 37

The moon shone brightly through the open curtains, as Percy Weasley restlessly rolled onto his side. Guilt had spent most of the night eating through him, as it had every night since Lord Voldemort had begun blackmailing him. Anxiety seemed to literally press against his chest, as he thought of the terror he had put his brother through, terror that his sister may still be experiencing this very moment.

Percy sighed softly, and sat up from his bed slowly, careful not to wake Penelope who was sleeping beside him. She alone, had slept easily, unaware of the internal battle that had been raging through her boyfriend for many weeks.

Percy located his horn-rimmed glasses from the bedside table, and quietly made his way through to the kitchen of the small London apartment. The tiles were shockingly cold beneath his feet as he entered the kitchen, flicking his wand absently at the cupboard, sending a mug skidding towards the bench. It was quickly filled with steaming hot tea, just the way his mother had always made it at The Burrow.

He leaned against the kitchen bench and drew the mug to his lips, flinching slightly at the heat of the liquid. Percy closed his eyes for a moment, taking the chance to be completely solitary. The pressure from the past weeks had begun to take its toll, and was reflecting in his work. He had been sent home from the Ministry for the first time in about three years, the minister sensing that he needed an afternoon off to be with his family.

Percy scoffed silently as he thought of this, remembering how Scrimgeour had recommended he visit with his family, knowing how close his junior assistant was to the wizarding worlds latest tragedy, the kidnapping of Harry Potter. Percy's heart sank, remembering just how close he was, he much he was involved. His heart seemed to pound faster as he thought of what he was putting his family through, of what he was putting Harry through.

He had never particularly disliked Harry, only resented the close relationship he had with the Weasleys. Harry had been able to fit in with the Weasleys, in a way that Percy had never been able to. His parents had instantly warmed to him, and soon had come to consider him as a seventh son.

Percy stared at the ground, shame coursing through his veins as he thought of the evening this mess had all started.

*Flashback*

Percy relaxed back into the chair, looking around the expensive muggle restaurant where he and Penelope were to meet for dinner. He patted the breast pocket of his muggle suit, feeling with satisfaction the small velvet box, which enclosed the modest engagement ring he was to give to her that evening.

He looked at his watch, his whole body nervous as he patiently awaited Penelope's arrival. They had been dating on and off throughout their schooling at Hogwarts, and had only made their first real commitment after leaving school, when they had moved in together. Now after three years of living together, he knew he wanted to spend his life with her.

Percy was pulled from his thoughts as a waiter passed him by, politely offering him some menus. He accepted them, placing one on the setting across from him, where Penelope would be sitting. He opened the wine list, reading the various labels of wines that he did not recognise. His eyes widened at the price of some, when out of the corner of his eye he saw Penelope sitting down.

He smiled as his eyes continued scanning the list. "I was getting worried," he said, looking up at her. His eyes fell on the woman sitting across from him, and his hand immediately jumped to his pocket.

"I wouldn't do that," the woman said casually, yet in a low tone. "There are already about four wands pointed your direction as it is."

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled as she settled herself in Penelope's chair, picking up the menu that was in front of her.

"What looks good?" she asked mockingly.

His heart pounding, Percy half rose from his chair, not truly believing that a death eater had just sat down right in front of him.

"Sit down, Weasley," Bellatrix said firmly. "We need to talk."

Percy looked at her opened mouthed, his heart pounding somewhere in his throat. Not entirely aware of what he was doing, he sat down quietly, not seeing the frowns and stares he received from other patrons.

"Don't even think about trying anything," Bellatrix continued, and then nodded in the direction of a well dressed man, sitting at a table in the corner. "You'll be stopped very quickly, by that man."

Percy glanced at the man, immediately recognizing him as Rodolphus Lestrange. Percy's eyes darted around quickly, and he hastily picked out Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, blending in as a muggle couple halfway through a meal. Bellatrix smiled as she noticed him picking out her accomplices.

"That was McNair, by the way," she said. "The waiter who brought the menus."

Percy looked at her wide-eyed, gripping the table so hard that his knuckles had gone white. He breathed out slowly, trying to keep his composure.

"What do you want?" he asked nervously. "What do you want?"he asked again when she didn't reply.

Bellatrix looked back down at the menu, pretending to be looking at the 'soup of the day' and continued talking.

"It seems that the Dark Lord has found himself in need of help, your help in particular."

Percy cursed under his breath and looked down at the table, hoping to Merlin that when he looked up it wasn't Bellatrix Lestrange sitting across from him, that it would be Penelope, asking why he seemed so tense. He mentally shook himself from his thoughts, and tried to make himself think.

"And if I don't help him?" Percy asked softly, fear evident in his voice.

Bellatrix raised her eyebrows, surprised that he had even asked. "Well," she began. "Somebody from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Office will knock on Mr and Mrs Clearwater's door tomorrow morning, and inform them that their daughter has been brutally murdered in a suspected death eater attack."

Percy's face jumped up to look at her, clearly horrified. She smiled at his expression, and added, "It will probably go the same way when they tell your parents."

"What do you want from me?" Percy asked, as anger began coursing through his veins. "Just tell me what you want."

"We want you to bring him to us," Bellatrix replied without skipping a beat. "Or at the very least, bring us to him."

"Who?" Percy asked desperately. "Bring you to whom?"

Bellatrix smiled warmly at him, before continuing. "Isn't it obvious?"

It suddenly dawned on him, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. "You want Harry."

"Got it in one." Bellatrix stood up smiling warmly at the waiter who passed them by, his hands full of hot steaming food. She stepped towards him and bent down with the pretence of kissing his cheek.

"We'll be in touch," she whispered into his ear. Percy clenched his eyes shut, not moving an inch as she kissed him. Bellatrix stood up and exited the restaurant quickly, leaving Percy more shocked than when she had arrived. His eyes opened quickly and he looked around. The man in the corner had disappeared, as had the Malfoys, who had been dining less than ten feet away.

"Hey Perce," came a voice from behind him, as a hand brushed his shoulder. "Sorry I'm a little late.

"Penelope!" Percy gasped as he shot up from his chair in relief. "Thank Merlin you're alright."

"I'm only a little late Percy, sorry if I worried you," Penelope said soothingly, frowning at his strange reaction.

"Did they hurt you?" he interrupted, his hands jumping to her face as though checking for injuries.

"Percy," she replied, feeling worried. "What's wrong?"

He looked at her wide-eyed, before realizing the obvious. They hadn't come to her, only to him.

"Nothing!" he blurted out. "It's nothing."

Penelope studied him scrupulously for a moment, before nodding slowly. She allowed him to pull out her chair, and they quickly sat down.

"Long day at work?" she asked, trying to find the reason for his strange reaction.

He froze, remembering the reason he had come here in the first place.

"Yeah, it was," he replied tonelessly, caught between the desire to tell Penelope what had happened, and the desire to pretend it hadn't.

He collected himself and smiled at her. "Scrimgeour was on my back all day."

*End of Flashback*

"Can't sleep?"

Percy looked up at Penelope who stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her hair tousled from her sleep.

'Did I wake you?" he replied, not answering the question. "Sorry," he added after she nodded.

She smiled sleepily and stepped forward, embracing him in a gently hug. Percy put his mug down and enclosed his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

"I'm sure she's okay," Penelope said, referring to Ginny. Earlier that evening Mr Weasley had flooed them, telling them briefly of what had happened.

"Yeah," Percy replied emotionlessly, as he began stroking her hair absentmindedly.

Penelope tightened her embrace before continuing. "You should go see them tomorrow. You should be there with them."

"Don't you remember what happened last time I visited?" he replied sourly.

"Of course I do," she replied, before continuing firmly. "But they're your family. And your parents need you to be there."

Percy nodded, somewhat unwillingly. The last thing he wanted to do was go there, and see the pain he was inflicting on his family, on everyone. The urge to tell Penelope everything suddenly overcame him again, as it had many times. He needed to get it off his chest, he needed to relieve the immense pressure he was feeling. He looked down at the kitchen floor, divided between his need to confess, and his fear of the consequences.

"Percy, is something wrong?" Penelope asked. "Besides the obvious."

Percy shook his head gently, still looking at the floor. He remembered vaguely that he hadn't proposed that night at the restaurant. He looked up briefly and pulled her into his arms, resting his head against hers.

"Nothing's wrong," he lied. "Nothing."


	38. Chapter 38

Ginny didn't know when exactly she had woken up, but it wasn't long before she blearily opened her eyes. She lay still for a few moments, her mind trying to process what was happening. She could smell something strange, though she couldn't seem to place it. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, breathing deeply before opening them again.

She was lying at the mouth of a seemingly deserted alley way, concealed somewhat behind quite a number of wooden crates. Ginny gently pushed herself into a sitting position, her head spinning and her heart pounding nervously in her chest. She looked around for a few moments, trying to comprehend where she was. Her legs felt as though they were made of jelly as she stood up, and her body did not feel like cooperating with her brain. She stumbled a few steps as she tentatively stepped towards the mouth of the alley. She stood frozen, looking around at the shops surrounding her, most of which seemed to sell dark wizarding items.

She cast her eyes around for a moment, and a sign hanging overhead told her she was in Knockturn Alley. She stood motionless for a moment, trying to understand what was happening. She stepped forward onto the deserted street, realising she stood outside Borgin and Burkes. Ginny stared through the dusty glass at the window display, curiously fascinated with various dark objects. She stared, motionless for a moment before suddenly shivering.

She tore her eyes away from the display, folding her arms across her chest. She looked around, feeling as vulnerable as she had felt the previous night. She closed her eyes as moments of that night flashed through her mind at warped speed, and she breathed in nervously. Ginny opened her eyes and began walking up the narrow street, hoping it would take her to Diagon Alley. The stone was cold beneath her feet as she slowly walked, quickly realising she was still in her pajamas.

She stopped and looked in the window of one of the stores, and saw on their clock that it had only just passed six-fifty am. The brick wall didn't let shoppers in until seven, which was why she so far had encountered nobody. She continued up the path, praying to whoever was listening that she was going the right direction. Suddenly the entrance back to Diagon Alley seemed to appear out of nowhere, and her heart seemed to leap into her throat. She dashed towards it, full of relief.

She slowed down as she stepped onto the familiar street, the early morning sunshine filling the alley. Knowing where she had to go, she set off down the street, finally feeling as though she could breathe unrestricted. She barely noticed the various shop owners bustling around in their shops, preparing for another day of work. She quickly saw Weasley Wizard Wheezes, their colourful displays easily catching her eye.

Ginny dashed towards the front door, ignoring the 'Closed' sign, she twisted the door handle, trying to let herself in. She looked into the shop, and saw that there were no lights on. The whole shop stood motionless, and quite obviously deserted. She took a few steps backwards and looked up, seeing the empty windows of the flat the twins lived in. She could see light in one of the rooms, and she almost began calling out to them, before realising that the window was closed.

She stood motionless for a minute or so, not entirely sure of what to do now. Knowing she had to do something to get in, she approached the door again, shaking the door handle ferociously. She jumped with a gasp as the door handle suddenly burned her hand, and she remembered the anti-burglar spell that the twins had cast over the store.

She sighed and reluctantly sat down, leaning against the front door. She fidgeted as she waited for one of her brothers to enter their store. She found her mind drifting back to what had happened, even as she tried to distract herself. The flash of green had seemed to burn itself into her eyes, even though she had only seen it briefly. But there was no doubting the loud cry of 'Avada Kedavra,' that was still ringing in her ears, even now.

"He's not dead," she muttered to herself. "He's not dead."

She could still remember the look on Harry's face when he saw her, and how he had immediately submitted to Voldemort when he did. She closed her eyes as she remembered the agony of the cruciatus curse, and how she had screamed louder than ever. She was crying softly as she thought of how much pain she had been in, of how much pain Harry had been in.

She realised that it was Monday morning. It had been just over a week since Harry was taken. Her birthday was quickly approaching, and this thought dampened her spirits even further. She didn't to sit through forced celebrations, especially if Harry wouldn't be there.

She wiped away the tears on her face, as a light flickered on inside the store. She barely saw it, given that the sun was shining, but she immediately jumped up, forgetting her train of thought. She looked through the glass in the door and saw her brother bustling around inside, carrying a heavy box, his face grim and withdrawn.

She drew a pair of fists, and pounded on the door loudly, getting her brothers attention immediately. Fred looked up, and his eyes widened in shock and relief. He stood frozen for a moment, before dropping the heavy box he held, its contents shattering loudly. He dashed towards the door, withdrawing his wand from inside his orange robes. He jabbed the door handle furiously, and flung it open.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked, almost angrily as he grabbed Ginny's elbow, pulling her inside. "Are you okay?"

Ginny nodded, unable to answer properly as her throat began to tighten considerably. Hot tears spilled down her face, fiercer than before. Filled with relief, Fred pulled Ginny towards him, enveloping her in a tight hug.

Ginny nodded, unable to answer properly as her throat began to tighten considerably. Filled with relief, Fred pulled her into a tight hug that rivalled their mother's. Crying, Ginny wrapped her arms around her brother, as though afraid he might disappear.

"Ginny," Fred said. "Ginny, is Harry alright?"

"I don't know," she choked out through her sobs.

"What do you mean?" Fred asked in earnest, releasing her from his tight embrace. "Was he there?"

Ginny nodded, as she tried to stop her tears.

"Well was he okay?" Fred asked again, taking her firmly by the elbow.

Ginny fell silent for a moment, not knowing how to answer. She shook her head. "No, he's not okay."

Fred nodded as his heart sank. He let go of Ginny momentarily as he took off his robes, slinging them around her shoulders as she shivered slightly.

"Come on, let's get you home."

"Hello Ginny," the Head Auror Corey greeted her warmly. "Take a seat."

Ginny sat down nervously, fidgeting her fingers as she looked around. The small interview room consisted of only a table and two chairs, one of which she now occupied. She swallowed nervously, as the overwhelming events of the last few hours seemed to dawn on her. She took a shaky breath just a Corey sat down in front of her.

"Would you like something to drink?" he offered, genuinely concerned.

Ginny shook her head. "No, thank you."

Corey nodded, smiling at her gently as he opened the folder he had brought in with him. He took out a brightly coloured quill and a small roll of parchment. The colourful quill caught Ginny's eye, and she smiled momentarily. Seeing this, Corey too smiled.

"This is just another model of the quick quotes quill, Ginny. Don't worry though, it only writes down everything that is said. Word for word."

Ginny nodded, the last thing she wanted was to have her words blown out of proportion. She was suddenly glad that her mother wasn't present. It would be easier to hold everything together without her there. Besides, she wasn't quite sure she wanted everybody knowing exactly what had happened, at least not yet.

"Down to business Ginny," Corey said conversationally. "Your mother tells us that they heard a struggle just after everyone went to bed. You were making biscuits right?"

Ginny nodded, fidgeting. "Yeah, I was trying to make jam drops."

"What time do you think your mother went to bed?"

"Um," she began. "I'm not really sure. It was not long after eight I think."

Corey nodded, the quick quotes quill skidding across the parchment at great speed. "Why did you go outside last night?"

Ginny tucked a strand of hair behind her head, clasping her hands together in her lap. "Mum and I had been bickering, and she told me to put the chickens back in the hen house. I went outside to put the chickens away."

"Did you stay out there long?"

"Yeah, I sat down on the grass for a few minutes."

Corey nodded gently. "Let's talk about happened when you were attacked. Did you see your attackers face?"

Ginny shook her head, taking a deep breath. "No, they came at me from behind."

"Did you manage to fight back at all?"

"Yes, I started screaming, and trying to get away. He was too strong though."

"Can you tell me what happened next?"

She nodded. "I think we Apparated. Everything felt really tight, and that's what my brothers said it was like."

"Where did the attacker take you?"

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply for a few moments. "I'm not sure. It was some kind of house. It seemed huge."

"Were you inside or outside when you arrived?"

"Outside," Ginny replied confidently. "We were on the front porch, or something like that."

"Okay Ginny, this is important. Could you see anything around you?"

"No," she replied after a moments hesitation. "It, it happened really fast. I didn't get a chance to see much on the outside."

"Can you tell me about the weather?"

Ginny thought hard for a moment. "Um, I'm pretty sure it was raining."

"Raining you say? Was it warm rain, or cold?"

Ginny said nothing, not knowing how to answer. "I'm not sure. Cold maybe."

Corey frowned, before continuing. "Ginny remember, if you don't know an answer it's okay. But you can't just say anything, even if you think it will help. Just tell me what you remember."

Ginny nodded, somewhat sheepishly. "I don't know really. But I'm pretty sure it was raining."

"Okay, so what happened next?"

"Um, they took me inside. It was really big, like a mansion."

"Where did they take you specifically?

Ginny wrung her hands together nervously. "To a lounge room I think. You Know Who, was there."

Corey looked up sharply, even though he had been expecting this. "Did he say anything to you?"

"Yes, but I don't remember what he said exactly." She suddenly wished she had accepted Corey's offer of a glass of water. "I asked him where Harry was, and he said he had escaped."

"Escaped?" Corey asked sharply, shock and disbelief evident on his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Ginny emphasised. "But he said they were getting him back. He said he wanted Greyback to do it. Fenrir Greyback."

"What happened next?"

"Nothing, really," Ginny admitted. "They sort of put me to the side of the room and ignored me. There was one guy with his wand on me though."

"How many Death Eaters were there? Were there just a few, or lots of them?"

"Lots," Ginny replied, sure of her answer. "They were standing in a big circle, just waiting."

"How long did you wait before something else happened?"

"I'm not sure. It wasn't too long." She took a deep breath, unsure of whether she should continue. "I just sat there and didn't do anything."

Corey hesitated before asking his next question, as though he already knew the answer. "What happened after the waiting?"

Ginny didn't answer for a few moments, her throat tightening as she again regretted not taking the glass of water. "They brought Harry in."

Corey watched as a tear rolled down Ginny's face, and looked down. "Ginny, I know this is hard, but we need to go into as much detail as possible."

Ginny nodded, trying to compose herself as much as possible. She wiped the tear that had fallen as Corey shuffled through the folder he had brought in with him. He paused at a particular page, then looked up at Ginny.

"We know that the night Harry was kidnapped, he was wearing a white tee-shirt, and a pair of old jeans. Do you remember what he was wearing last night?"

Ginny paused, trying to remember. "I don't know," she said. "I wasn't really paying attention."

Corey nodded, leafing through the folder again, before closing it with a small thud. He looked up at Ginny again, smiling comfortingly. "I know this is hard, Ginny, but I need you to tell me everything you remember. Start from when they brought Harry in, to when they brought you back to Knockturn Alley."

Ginny nodded, but said nothing. She looked down at her hands, clasped firmly together in her lap. She suddenly wished her mother had been allowed to come in with her, even if she would have coddled her into near insanity. She knew she should start talking, but didn't know where to start. Everything that had happened seemed to merge into when whenever she had tried to think about it. She drew in a shaking breath, trying to sort out the mess inside her head.

"I think there were about ten more of them, when they all came in. Death Eaters," she clarified sheepishly. Her heart was pounding in her throat, making it hard for her to speak.

"He was struggling against them, and they sort of just threw him on the floor, in front of You Know Who."

"Did anyone speak at all?"

Ginny nodded. "I can't remember very much of what they said. Everything happened so fast."

"Was Harry injured at all?"

She swallowed thickly, trying to hold back the impending tears. "He was bleeding a lot."

There was a pause as Corey waited for her to continue. When she didn't he prompted her.

"Did he seem to be in any pain?"

Ginny nodded, unable to respond properly. Her eyes stung as they filled with tears, which she quickly wiped away, her face burning red.

"So what happened next?" Corey continued, pretending not to see her tears, unsure of how to act.

"Um," Ginny began, her voice shaking. "They were talking, I can't remember exactly what was said, but he was trying to make Harry tell him something. He was using the Imperius Curse."

"Did Harry tell him anything?"

Ginny shook her head, as a few more tears fell down her cheek. "Not at first."

"So he did tell You Know Who something," Corey confirmed.

"Yeah," Ginny continued. "Harry kept saying no, he didn't say anything until," Ginny voice trailed off slightly.

"Until what, Ginny?" Corey prompted.

Ginny's voice shook, and she stared at her lap as she spoke. "He wasn't going to say anything, until he saw me."

"What happened when he saw you?"

"He completely freaked out," she replied, remembering clearly the terror on Harry's face when he saw her. "And then some of the death eaters had to hold him back."

"What happened next?"

"He used, the Cruciatus Curse on me. You Know Who did."

Corey looked up at her, perplexed, but not completely shocked. This too was not unexpected.

"Okay Ginny, this will sound kind of obvious, but how did the curse feel?"

"It hurt," she muttered. "It hurt so bad."

"Do you have any idea why he used that curse?" Corey asked.

Ginny's eye caught the brightly coloured quill, which was zooming back and forth on the long roll of parchment. "I think he did it, to force Harry to confessing something."

"And did he?" Corey said. "Did Harry tell them anything?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "He and you know who, came to an agreement I suppose. Harry said if they let me go, he'll tell them anything they want to know."

"What did he tell them?"

Ginny looked down at her lap, unsure of how she should answer. She knew everyone would want to know what Harry had told them, but she couldn't bring herself to tell them, not after she realised how hard Harry had tried to keep it secret. She wrung her hands together as she tried to think, tried to reason with her conscience. She couldn't tell them, not when Harry had been trying for so hard to keep it a secret from everyone else.

"I don't know," Ginny lied. "He was talking quietly, only to You Know Who."

Corey raised his eyebrow, not sure whether or not he should believe the girl in front of him, He set this thought aside, knowing he needed to continue this interview as quickly as possible.

"So, what happened next, Ginny?"

Ginny breathed a gently sigh of relief before answering, glad that the interview would soon be drawing to a close. "You Know Who, he said I could go home."

"Did you leave by yourself?'

"No," Ginny replied, confidently. "One of them took me outside. I think it was Rodolphus Lestrange. Anyway he cast some spell, and that's all I remember until I woke up this morning."

"Do you remember the incantation he used?"

Ginny shook her head, as the thing that had been worrying her so much, resurfaced in her mind.

"Alright Ginny, I'm going to let your parents take you now. You'll need to take a stop at St Mungos, just so they can give the all clear for you."

Ginny nodded, as he continued. "You've done well today, thank you."

Ginny nodded again as she watched him packing up his things. She opened her mouth and began speaking, just as he put away the quick quotes quill.

"There's something else," she blurted out. "Something I should tell you."

Corey looked up at her sharply, his curiosity aroused. Her eyes were wide with anxiety as she continued.

"As we were leaving, You Know Who had his wand on Harry."

Corey nodded, but stayed silent, his instincts telling him that she would continue.

Ginny cast her eyes toward the ground, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "As Lestrange and I were leaving, I heard You Know Who casting the, the Killing Curse."

Neither of them moved, as the news sunk into Corey. His mind suddenly was going at a hundred mile an hour, trying to reprocess everything she had said throughout the interview, now that he knew the boy might possibly be dead. He put his elbow on the desk and leaned his head on it, rubbing his tired eyes as he tried to think.

"Could you see Harry, when you heard this?" he asked, barely lifting his head.

"No," Ginny admitted. "But I'm sure it was that curse."

Corey lifted his head, feigning confidence.

"Ginny, if you didn't see it, then you don't know that Harry is dead," he lied, trying to assure her. The last thing he needed was a hysterical girlfriend talking to the media.

"But I heard it," she implied. He could see tears glistening in her eyes, and wanted to avoid her getting too upset.

"If you didn't see it, then you don't know it happened."

Ginny nodded as tears began to fall, not believing one word he said. Corey watched her for a moment, before gathering his things, and stepping outside the room. He closed the door behind him as Molly and Arthur Weasley rushed to his side.

"How is she?" the couple inquired almost immediately.

Corey tucked the folder he was carrying firmly under his arm, as the long scroll of parchment magically rolled itself up in mid-air beside him.

"She's fine," he assured them both. He took a small piece of parchment from his folder and scribbled something on it. He handed the parchment to Mr Weasley.

"You'll need to take her to St Mungos, just to make sure she's okay physically. Give this to the clerk, and they'll know what to look for."

Mr Weasley nodded as his wife stepped into the interview room to comfort their daughter.

"We'll be in touch," Corey said as he began walking down the hall, heading towards his office.

"Mr Corey?"

Corey turned around, looking back down the hall at Arthur Weasley. Worry and fear was etched across his lined face, emphasised by his balding hair, and somewhat shabby appearance.

"Any news of Harry?" Mr Weasley asked, somewhat timidly.

Corey paused, knowing he should be speaking to the boy's godfather about anything concerning him, not to the Weasleys.

"We're not sure of anything yet, but we'll be in touch."

Mr Weasley nodded, and was almost immediately diverted as his wife and daughter exited the interview room. He ushered them both down the adjacent hall as Corey turned and kept walking.

Giles rubbed his eye with his free hand as he marched down the halls, heading towards the area where the cubicles were situated. He sighed as he thought of what the Weasley girl had told him, knowing that their whole strategy may have to change, now knowing that the boy could be dead for sure. He silently passed through the various cubicles, avoiding any memos that strayed near him. He found the cubicle he needed, and knocked gently.

"Hey boss," Andrea Hadden said, turning around in her chair to see him. "What do you need?"

"I need you to look at all the areas, muggle and wizard, that have had rain in the last two days. Cross reference them with the areas that have had unusual amounts of magical activity in them."

"How soon do you want it?" Hadden said, turning back to her desk, riffling through some papers.

"I want it now. It's for the Potter case, so it's now your highest priority."

Hadden paused as she heard the reason behind the task, but quickly set to work.

"Shouldn't take very long."

Corey nodded, and left the cubicle, making his way through the crowded and busy area as he headed towards his office. He passed through a set of large doors, entering into the quieter area of the auror department. In his mind, he sorted out the things he needed to do, trying to find a way to squeeze everything in. He fiddled with his goatee nervously, wishing that this investigation was over.

He approached the secretary's desk, and handed her the transcript from the interview.

"Yvonne, would you make a copy of this transcript for everyone involved in the Potter case, and get it to them as soon as you can?"

"Sure thing, Corey," she relied, barely looking at him as she took the parchment.

"Is Black still waiting in my office?"

"Yes," she replied dryly.

Ignoring her lack of conversation he continued towards his office, opening the door gently and stepping inside. Sirius Black sat in the chair in front of his desk, nervousness and anxiety filling his lined face. He looked up immediately, desperate for any news regarding Harry or Ginny.

"How is she?" he asked quietly.

Corey sat down at his desk as he answered. "She's going to be fine. No long term damage, or anything nasty."

"And Harry," Sirius replied instantly. "Did she say anything about Harry?"

Corey held his breath as he saw the desperation evident on Sirius' face. It had never been easy for him to tell people that they may never see their loved ones again. Pushing this aside, he began speaking.

"Yes, she saw Harry," he said gently. "As we had assumed, You Know Who has been torturing him for information."

Sirius said nothing, keeping his face blank as he leant back into his chair, anger and despair welling up inside him. He had tried to prepare himself for moments like this, but all the preparation in the world wouldn't have helped him now.

"But, is he okay?" he asked after a few moments.

"Ginny has told me that he has been quite injured, and that he has been bleeding. This bleeding was most likely to have been over the course of the week, not just in one big hit."

Sirius nodded, as if that last statement would make him feel any better.

"Do you know where he is? Do you have any idea?"

"I have an Auror cross matching areas of rainfall, and heightened magical activity over the last few days, and with any luck that will turn up something that we can make use of."

"That's your way of saying, no, isn't it," Sirius said, not as a question, but as a statement.

They both fell silent for a moment, uncomfortably aware of the hopelessness of the situation.

"What else did Ginny say? Why did they take her, and then let her go?"

"From what Ginny has said, Harry has been refusing to give up information to You Know Who. I believe they took Ginny, to threaten Harry."

"Threaten to kill her, if Harry didn't talk."

"Yes," Corey nodded. "But when they brought her into the picture, he made a bargain with You Know Who. Her life, for the information they wanted."

"What did he tell them?"

Corey sighed and leaned back into his chair, rubbing his eyes. "Ginny says she couldn't hear what he was saying, that Harry only told them very quietly."

"Right," Sirius said shortly, immediately disbelieving Ginny's story. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Yes, there is actually," Corey replied gently. Sirius nodded, listening intently.

Corey hesitated before speaking, unsure of how to say this. "Until we have solid evidence proving otherwise, there is no reason to believe that Harry isn't alive."

"What do you mean?" Sirius said, Corey's tone telling him that something else was wrong.

Corey paused before answering, unsure of how to word his sentence. "As Ginny was leaving, she heard the Killing Curse being cast."

Sirius' breath caught in his throat as Corey said this, knowing immediately what Corey suspected.

"You think he's dead," Sirius stated, his voice toneless. "Don't you."

"Until we have proof, there is no reas-"

"But that's what you're saying isn't it? You think they killed him."

Corey said nothing for a long moment, before confirming his belief. "Yes, I think it's highly probable."

Sirius nodded, his throat and chest constricting, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure. He stood up to leave, and was halfway to the door when Corey spoke again.

"Rest assured, Mr Black. Dead or alive, we will not stop searching for Harry until he is found."

Sirius ignored him, and quickly left, his composure slipping the more he thought of Harry. Corey put his elbows on the desk, leaning his head into them. It was barely nine o'clock and already he couldn't stand work much longer.

He lifted his head and leant back into his chair, picking up a quill and fiddling aimlessly with it. He knew he had a stack of things he needed to be doing, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do them. Absentmindedly, he turned the quill in his hands, spreading ink all over his fingers as he thought.

He jumped slightly as Yvonne knocked loudly on his door, entering his office.

"Media wants a statement about the Potter case," she said, slapping a stack of papers on his desk. "You have an appointment with the minister at twelve, and your wife left a message."

"What did she say?" Corey replied, not even looking at the stack of papers on his desk.

"She said if you're not home by eight, she'll drag you home herself."

"Right."

Yvonne left without another word, leaving the door open behind her. Normally this would have annoyed him, but he barely noticed, so absorbed in the dreaded day ahead of him. However Yvonne had barely left when Hadden entered, not even bothering to knock.

"I have those cross references you asked for," Hadden said, raising a piece of parchment upon which she had scribbled the names of various towns.

"Go on," Corey said, looking up at him slowly.

She sat down. "They all seem to check out. Some areas in Kent, Cornwall and Hogsmeade have had slightly lower levels of magical activity over the last few days, and have had small amounts of rain. However Little and Great Hangleton have had higher levels of activity, and high rainfall over the weekend."

"How high?"

"Not much more than usual. Great Hangleton is full of wizards, and there are a few wizarding families in the area around Little Hangleton."

Corey nodded. It would be worth having Little Hangleton investigated, especially if there were higher levels of magic. Something about the name Little Hangleton seemed to stick out in his mind, as though he had heard of investigations there previously.

"How high was the magical activity around Little Hangleton?"

"There's a definite spike in activity, but it's the school holidays. That always happens."

Corey said nothing, debating furiously within his mind. It could be worth having the areas checked out, tracking down where exactly the magic had come from.

"Do you want me to look into it?"

Corey frowned, stroking his goatee, an old reflex for when he was put under pressure. He could see Hadden growing impatient, so he answered.

"No, I'm sure it's nothing."


	39. Chapter 39

Sirius stood motionless in front of the home he and Harry had been living in. It seemed to tower over him as he stood in the front yard, working himself up to going inside. He swallowed nervously and his heart pounded in his chest, he could almost hear his blood pressure rising within him. He could hear Tonks and Moody talking quietly behind him, having accompanied him to make sure nothing unsavoury happened. He tuned out to their voices as he looked at the ground, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

The Auror department had owled him early that morning, telling him that he may return to his home at any time. _"We have finished our investigation of the crime scene. You may return to your place of residence, at the earliest convenience," _they had written, as if returning was simply that easy. His pounding heart and nerves told him quite clearly that returning was not quite as easy as had been suggested.

Since Ginny's return, everybody had immediately left the Burrow, temporarily moving into Grimmauld Place. It seemed obvious now, that the Burrow was too much of an easy target, and was not safe for anybody to reside in. The only reason Sirius had come back to this house, was because he wanted to pick up some more of his clothing before heading to Grimmauld Place.

He raised his head, looking up at the house. He stared motionlessly at it for a few moments, before moving forward. He climbed the steps up onto the porch as he withdrew his wand from his robes. He tapped the door knob, and heard the soft click of the lock. Hesitating for a moment, he opened the door and stepped inside before he could stop himself.

As he closed the door behind him, Sirius looked around at his deserted home. It seemed unnaturally bright as his eyes wandered the large room. He stood frozen, his brain trying to tell his legs to move. He stayed where he was, yet craned his neck slightly to see into the living area. He noted absently that the living room doors had been repaired. They no longer swung about freely, their glass shattered across the carpet.

He felt his feet moving forward, taking him into the living area. He looked around, noticing that the sweater he had slung across the breakfast table was gone, that the old newspaper no longer sat on the coffee table. He stepped into the kitchen and immediately noticed the large smear on the floor had disappeared, had been cleaned up. He scanned the pristine living area, which bore no signs of recent life. He suddenly realised that any stranger could walk in, and not realise that this house had recently been the site of a horrific attack.

He began walking towards the staircase before he even knew it, and he slowly ascended, as though he were not quite sure where the stairs would lead him. He hesitantly approached Harry's bedroom, stopping in front of it. There was no reason to go inside, he reasoned with himself. There was no point really, he didn't need anything in there. He opened the door anyway, letting it swing open fully before stepping inside. He looked around, but it was not Harry's room as he remembered it.

This room too, had been cleaned and tidied, removing almost all evidence that a teenage boy had been living there. Sirius took a few more steps inside, taking in all the changes. The old tee-shirt that Harry had thrown into the corner was missing, as was the empty coffee cup on his desk. Sirius distinctly remembered reminding Harry to take it back down to the kitchen the day of his birthday, yet he knew it had not been Harry who had removed it.

It was the same people who cleaned the blood from the window sill, the same people who had moved the owl treats from his bedside table, the same people who had removed the sheets from his bed, in order to take them for evidence. He felt as though he were standing in the bedroom of a complete stranger, not the bedroom of the godson he loved so much.

Sirius turned abruptly, exiting the room. He went straight downstairs, the staircase creaking under his heavy footsteps. He marched into the muggle laundry, flinging open the cupboard doors. He bent down, searching on the lower shelves and quickly finding what he was looking for. He bundled the fresh sheets into a ball, tucking them under his arm whilst throwing a haphazardly folded quilt over his shoulder.

He marched back up the stairs and back into Harry's room, intent on restoring it to its previous condition. He dumped the quilt onto the floor, and sorted out the assortment of sheets he had underneath his arm. He withdrew his wand and charmed the sheets, watching them fit themselves around the empty mattress. He put his wand away, and spread the quilt out himself, tugging at the corners to get rid of the crinkles.

The cream coloured quilt seemed to glare at him, as he realised he probably should have chosen a red coloured quilt.

"Red for Gryffindor," he thought to himself.

He turned away from the bed and approached the desk, where the Aurors had left his assortment of birthday gifts. He began putting things away, placing his new quidditch gloves and broomstick servicing kit in the corner where his firebolt stood. He opened the desk drawers and put away the assortment of Weasley Wizard Wheezes products, along with the copy of The Pitch. He took the large block of Honeydukes chocolate and sat it on the bedside table, along with the watch Molly and Arthur had given him.

Sirius looked around for a moment, wondering where Harry's old wallet would be. He had originally left it in the kitchen, but knew it wouldn't be there anymore. He opened the top drawer of the bedside table and immediately found it.

Slightly relieved, Sirius sat down at the desk as he opened it. He removed the contents, leaving them temporarily on the desk beside him. He opened the new leather wallet that Hermione had given to Harry, and began transferring the various coins and store receipts into it. Finished, he put the wallet back onto the desk, no longer compelled to put it away.

He stood up, folding his arms across his chest as he looked around. It still looked bare, it still didn't look like what Harry's bedroom should. Despite the things that occupied it, the room was emptier than it had ever been. He turned slowly on the spot and his fell upon the photos that occupied the wall above Harry's desk. He looked closely at the pictures, observing the various people in them. Some, such as Ron, Hermione and Ginny, he recognised, but others he simply assumed to be other friends from Hogwarts. He smiled as he came across the picture of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, taken after they won the Quidditch cup. Having not played in that game, Harry was the only one not wearing the Quidditch robes, yet he seemed to fit in perfectly, as though he weren't wearing different robes at all. He briefly recalled that this picture was taken only a little while after he and Ginny had kissed.

Sirius scanned his eyes over the various pictures that he had never properly looked at, his heart stopping at a picture of himself and Harry. It had been taken at the previous Christmas, and he remembered grabbing Harry and dragging him into the picture at the last minute. In the picture Harry looked somewhat flustered, yet as Sirius slung his arm around his shoulder, he smiled nonetheless.

Sirius tore his eyes away from the picture as he felt his heart begin to race. Intense guilt began rising in his throat, and he clenched his jaws together tightly. He didn't want to feel, he didn't want to deal with any of this. Coming back to this house had been a mistake, serving only to remind him of his incredible losses. He snatched the photo from the wall, tucking it in his pocket as he quickly left the room.

He swiftly went downstairs, opening the front door in a flourish. He locked the door behind himself, and walked down the porch steps. Ignoring the glances from Mad Eye and Tonks, he spoke in a hurry, wanting nothing more than to get away.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go."

The three left quickly, appearing on the front steps of Grimmauld Place. Tonks and Mad Eye looked around for unsuspecting muggles who had seen them, as Sirius opened the front door and entered. It wasn't until he reached his bedroom and locked the door behind him, did he realise that he hadn't taken the clothing he had went for.

It seemed to take forever for Harry to work out what was happening, to work out where he was. He lay still as he slowly awoke from his potion induced sleep. His head pounded he breathed deeply, sending his head spinning. He clenched his jaws together as realisation seemed to rush back to him, reminding him of the situation.

He groaned and shifted position slightly, trying to alleviate the pain in the shoulder he was laying on. He was suddenly aware that he was not alone, yet made no effort to open his eyes. He lay quietly, his head pounding. A few minutes passed before he was able to begin thinking clearly, feeling a bit more awake.

He opened his eyes, heavy with exhaustion despite the potion, and waited for them to adjust to the dark room. A blurry mass of shadows swam in front of his eyes, and he clenched them shut again. His mouth felt as though it were made of paper and pain seemed to stab at his stomach, reminding him of his hunger. His eyes fluttered open again, and he let them adjust to the dim light. He shifted his position again as he felt his head becoming clearer.

Seeing his movements, the Death Eater watching him moved out of the corner, brandishing their wand. Harry froze as he heard the movements, but relaxed slightly as the ropes binding his hands behind his back disappeared.

"Sit up," Snape said coldly, putting his wand away. Harry grimaced with discomfort as he pulled his arm out from underneath his body. His body seemed to scream as he forced himself to sit up. His pounding head spun wildly, and he immediately felt sick. He tried to ignore this and looked at the ground, refusing to let his eyes meet with Snape's.

Snape studied the boy for a few moments, taking in his numerous injuries before speaking. "Eat this," he said, holding out a red apple.

Not even bothering to look up Harry responded. "I'm not hungry," he lied.

"I don't care," Snape relied tonelessly.

"Congratulations."

Snape closed his eyes momentarily, trying to gain as much patience as possible. He had known this would not be easy, but there was no way he would defy the Dark Lord's orders.

"You are no good to the Dark Lord, if you are dead," Snape said. "Eat it, or I will make you."

Harry closed his eyes, shivering internally. There was no way he wanted a group of Death Eaters holding him down, forcing him to eat, and he knew that's what would happen. Reluctantly he looked up, taking the apple from Snape's outstretched hand. He studied it for a moment, showing no more signs that he was going to eat. He turned it slowly in his hand, seeing the blurry golden streaks that ran through its skin. He was vividly reminded of Ginny's hair.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Snape withdrawing his wand threateningly. "Eat it, or I will make you," he repeated.

Submitting, Harry took a bite, tasting the sweet juices. He chewed slowly, trying to postpone swallowing, thinking of the many poisons that could have been hidden inside the seemingly innocent fruit. He remembered the fairy tale of Snow White, and the poisoned apple, and shivered outwardly. He swallowed, and immediately regretted it. Nausea seemed to rise in his throat, and he pulled his knees toward his chest, trying to stem the feeling. Trying to distract himself, he spoke.

"What day is it?" he asked, not entirely expecting an answer.

"It's just passed noon, Tuesday."

Harry raised his eyebrows slightly, now understanding why he felt so awful. He had been unconscious since Sunday evening.

"What happened to Ginny?" he asked quietly, desperate to know. He waited for Snape to answer, his heart pounding wildly.

"Eat," Snape said firmly, ignoring his question.

He reluctantly took another small bite, chewing faster this time. He swallowed quickly, trying his best to ignore the nausea.

"What happened to her?" he asked again.

Snape said nothing for a moment, truthfully unaware of what had happened to the Weasley girl. It was not his concern.

"She's fine," he lied. "She's back with her family."

Harry considered this for a moment, before wondering why he had asked in the first place. "I don't believe you," he muttered quietly under his breath.

"You probably shouldn't," Snape replied calmly, having only just heard what had been said.

They both fell silent, neither of them moving. Harry gave no indication that he would continue eating, simply holding the apple in his hand as his stomach continued to churn painfully. They remained in a kind of stalemate, neither of them desiring to make the next move. Harry stared at the ground, thinking of Snape's earlier words. The fact the he was no good to Voldemort if he was dead did little to comfort him, only reminding him of the fact that there was no way he would be getting out of there anytime soon.

"You saw me," Harry said quietly, still looking at the ground. Snape's head jerked up, looking at him with piercing eyes.

"In the forest," Harry clarified as he looked up at him. "You saw me."

"No, I didn't," Snape replied firmly, looking him in the eye.

"Why did you let me go?" Harry asked imperatively, ignoring Snape's words.

"I did not see you," Snape said a little too firmly, his eyes flashing.

"You did," Harry said a little louder, determined to find out why he was not captured then. "You looked right at me."

"I did not!" Snape said forcefully, stepping towards him. He raised his hand and backhanded Harry, knocking him from his sitting position to the ground, the apple rolling away into a corner. Stars danced in front of Harry's eyes, who was surprised at the strength of the slap. His cheek smarted as Snape bent down slightly, roughly pulling him up by the neck of his tattered shirt. Harry looked at Snape as he bent his face closer to Harry's.

"You didn't see me, and I didn't see you," he said menacingly. Harry felt Snape's wand pressing firmly into his ribs. "Understand?"

Harry glared at him for a moment, not at all feeling threatened.

"Fine," he said softly. "I didn't see you."

Snape stared at him blankly for a moment, before pushing him to the ground with force that again surprised Harry. He watched as Snape left, closing the door behind him with a bang. The door locked with a click just as ropes appeared in front of Harry, quickly binding his hands together painfully.

Harry relaxed a little, now that he was on his own. He felt relieved that his hands were in front of his body this time, making it more comfortable for him. He rolled onto his side, pressing his elbows into his stomach, in effort to stem the nausea as his head continued pounding painfully.

Subconsciously he looked toward the corner where the apple had rolled. It had vanished.


	40. Chapter 40

Sirius sat quietly at the foot of the third floor staircase at Grimmauld Place, taking a few minutes of peace in the dark hallway. He stared at the picture he had taken from Harry's bedroom wall, watching as Harry smiled, the Christmas tree in the background glittering. His chest wall constricted tightly as he saw Harry's resemblance to his father.

He pulled a second picture from his back pocket, studying James' face. Harry had been sitting on his lap when James pulled a face at him, causing him to giggle. Sirius watched as Harry pushed his father's face away, causing James to look up at the camera. The breath caught in Sirius' throat as James smiled, before turning back to his son.

Despite the accusations of Molly, Sirius had always known that Harry was not his father. He knew that being close to Harry would not make him feel closer to James. He knew that Molly's past accusations had only stemmed from her love of Harry, but this did not stop Sirius becoming defensive of her words.

Sirius sighed softly, throwing the two photos onto the stair beside him. He leaned against the banister and let his mind wander, something he had not allowed himself to do for a long time. His thoughts strayed to the last time he had seen Lily and James alive, a memory that he had tried to suppress for many years.

_The sun was just beginning to set as Sirius stepped onto the front veranda, his boots crunching on the leaves as he stepped on them. He set the plastic bags that he was holding onto the floor, raising his hand and knocking on the front door loudly. He thrust his hands into his pocket as he waited for someone to approach the door, and peered through an adjacent window. _

_Light shone through the window, gently illuminating the porch. He briefly saw Lily's form flash past the window before he heard the locks clicking in the door. The door opened in a flash, and Lily glared at him from inside._

"_You're late."_

"_I know," Sirius replied as he picked up the bags, stepping inside. Lily looked at her wristwatch, worry etched clearly over her face._

"_What could possibly have made you half an hour late?" she asked, taking the bags laden with groceries from his hands. _

"_Lost track of time," he said, kissing her on the cheek. _

_Lily roller her eyes as she turned on the spot and entered the kitchen. "Probably fooling around with that girl," she said. "What's her name anyway?"_

"_Chelsea," Sirius replied as he followed her into the kitchen. "And I wasn't with her, I was with Pete."_

"_Oh," Lily replied, her curiosity aroused. "How is he? He hasn't been around for about two weeks."_

"_He seems alright," Sirius replied as Lily began putting away the groceries that Sirius had brought for them. "Except he wasn't himself today."_

"_What was wrong?" Lily asked, stopping in her actions for a moment._

"_He just didn't seem himself today," Sirius replied. "I don't really think he was in the mood for visitors, to be honest."_

"_Hmm," Lily muttered under her breath. "Well I wish he'd try to visit a bit more often."_

_Sirius said nothing, leaning against the counter as he mentally told himself not to worry about Peter. He remained silent for a few moments as Lily finished putting away the groceries._

"_Thanks for the lollies," Lily said. "We're going to need them for Halloween tomorrow night."_

"_That's okay."_

"_Hey."_

_Sirius turned around, smiling widely as James entered the kitchen, carrying Harry on his hip. _

"_Hi," Sirius replied. "What kind of mischief have you two been getting up to?"_

"_Bath time," James replied with a smile, gesturing to Harry's pajamas. Harry smiled gently as he realised Sirius was present, and reached out his arms for him. Sirius took hold of him, relieving James for a few moments. _

"_Heard from Pete lately?" James asked as he handed Sirius the Butterbeer that he took from the cupboard. _

"_Yeah, I was around there this afternoon," Sirius replied as Harry leant against his chest, following James as they left the kitchen. "He didn't really seem himself."_

_James sighed gently as they entered the living room. He, just like his wife had been concerned for Peter for quite a few weeks. _

"_Do you know what was wrong?" James asked as he sat down, sipping his Butterbeer._

"_He didn't say. I don't think he was really in the mood for visitors."_

"_He hasn't been around much lately."_

_The two friends fell silent, sitting together in the comfortable silence. Sirius looked down at Harry, who leant comfortably against his chest. He, like everyone else was unusually quiet, as though he knew that not everything was how it should be. _

"_How you guys going?" Sirius asked. "Been cooped up here long enough?"_

_James groaned softly for a moment, frustration flashing across his face. "We've been in hiding for two months, you'd think we would be used to it by now."_

_Sirius laughed softly, yet sympathetically as James continued. "Lily has been driving me nuts."_

_Sirius laughed openly, glad that they were loosening up a little. "What has she been doing?"_

"_Cooking," James muttered. "She's been cooking, all week."_

"_Well why does that drive you nuts? It's not like she's in your way if she's cooking."_

"_For crying out loud, Padfoot, there's only so much coconut slice that I can eat!"_

_Sirius smiled, looking down at Harry, who had his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling gently. "Was any of it good?"_

"_Well, yeah," James replied, he to noticing that his son appeared to be sleeping. "Although, I have to admit, those biscuits she made were rock hard."_

_The two friends laughed openly as Lily called out to them from the kitchen. _

"_You know, I can hear you." Shocked that she had heard them, they froze momentarily, trying unsuccessfully to withhold their laughter. _

_Sirius chuckled under his breath as he stood up, gently holding Harry close to his chest. "I should put him to bed."_

_James nodded. "Sounds like I'm in trouble," he replied with a cheeky smile._

"_What's the worst she can do?" Sirius replied as he headed towards the staircase. _

"_Withhold sex."_

"_You see, that's why I'm not married," Sirius said over his shoulder as he began ascending the stairs, noticing that Harry had awoken, blinking his tired eyes. Sirius smiled and began rubbing his back, knowing that it often put him straight back to sleep._

_He stepped inside the nursery, nudging aside a small toy with his foot. He stood next to the cot for a few moments, rubbing Harry's back. He looked down, noticing Harry almost tentatively closing his eyes. _

"_Good night, Harry," Sirius muttered softly, pressing a small kiss to the top of his head. He pulled back the sheets and set Harry down, relieved that he didn't stir again. Tucking the sheets firmly around him, he thought back to the times when Harry was younger, when Sirius had been hesitant to hold him, afraid of hurting the tiny child._

_He smiled as he watched Harry sleeping, his fists curled around the bed sheets. He stayed for a few moments, before stepping away from Harry's crib, not knowing it would be the last time he saw him without a scar on his forehead. He did a quick search of the room to make sure that Lily's cat hadn't snuck in, before turning off the light. He cast Harry one last look before leaving, then shut the door gently. _

_He strolled back down the stairs and entered the living room, noting that Lily was present._

"_So when do you two plan on popping out another kid?" he asked with a smile, flopping down on the couch next to James. _

"_I don't think the term, 'popping out' is an accurate description of childbirth," Lily said. "It wasn't that simple."_

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sirius replied, brushing off her comment. "But when's the next kid coming?"_

"_Not any time soon," James replied stiffly. "So don't get your hopes up."_

"_That's not fun," Sirius replied, taking a mouthful of Butterbeer._

"_Neither is child birth," Lily added, as they laughed._

_Sirius downed the last of his Butterbeer, then stood up. "I really ought to be going, I was really just stopping by to drop of the groceries for you."_

"_Oh," James said with a smile. "Hot date tonight?"_

"_No, I'm popping in on Remus, I haven't heard from him lately either."_

_James stood up as Sirius leant down and kissed Lily on the cheek, saying a quick goodbye._

"_I'll be in tomorrow if I can get off work early enough," Sirius said as he and James walked onto the front veranda. "If not I'll come around the day after."_

"_Sounds good," James said. "Come early enough and we'll cook breakfast."_

_Sirius smiled and nodded, a gesture which passed as an embrace after so many years of friendship. _

"_We miss you at full moon," Sirius said over his shoulder as he walked towards his motorbike, a strong breeze coming out of nowhere. _

"_I bet you do," James replied offhandedly, watching as his friend prepared to leave. He suddenly found it harder to breath, reluctant to let his friend leave after such a short visit. _

_Sirius slung his leg over his motorbike, adjusting his position as he prepared to put on his helmet._

"_Sirius, wait," James called out._

_Sirius frowned as James quickly looked around, making sure Lily wasn't watching, knowing that she worried immensely when he went too far outside. He stepped from the porch and quickly approached Sirius on the bike, the breeze rustling the trees around them. _

"_What is it?" Sirius asked, concerned as he saw James' face. Sirius could tell immediately that something other than the obvious was bothering him. James said nothing for a moment, looking at the grass he was standing on. _

"_Thank you," James said. "You've always been a great friend."_

"_Don't," Sirius replied, almost angrily. "Don't say your good-byes. You three are going to be fine."_

_James nodded, looking at the ground again as he stuck his hands into his pockets. They said nothing for a few moments, stuck in an awkward silence as they each waited for the other to speak. _

"_I lied," James said softly, breaking the silence._

"_About what?" Sirius asked, seeing the pain on his friends face._

"_About when we're having another baby." He looked up at Sirius as he continued. "Lily's already pregnant."_

_Sirius' mouth dropped open, sudden joy filling him up. "That's great!" he replied enthusiastically._

"_No, Sirius," James replied emphatically. "It's not."_

"_But, you two have always said you wanted more children," replied Sirius, shocked at James' reaction._

"_Yeah, but not like this! This isn't the type of world that I wanted to raise my children in."_

_Sirius said nothing, silently agreeing with him. _

"_It's just a shock, that's all," James said softly, running his fingers through his hair. "I always just assumed Lily wouldn't fall pregnant again, until after the war was over."_

_Sirius again stayed silent, nodding his head with understanding. He wished he could think of something inspiring or heart warming to say, but that was usually done by Dumbledore._

"_Well," Sirius said gently, not really sure what he was going to say next. "It happened, and now you just have to deal with it. That's all you can do."_

_James nodded, folding his arms. "Thank you, I just needed to get that off my chest. Lily doesn't seem to understand."_

_Sirius nodded, and they fell into silence for a few moments._

"_I should go back inside," James said softly. "Before Lily has my head for being out here."_

_Sirius smiled, and stood up from his bike. "It'll be okay," he said as he pulled James into a brief one armed hug. _

"_Make sure Remus and Pete are okay for me."_

"_Sure," Sirius nodded, knowing that James too was worried about them. _

_James nodded as they parted, raising his hand in a brief wave before heading back inside to his family. Sirius sat motionless for a moment, deep in thought. He soon shook himself back to reality, putting on his helmet and starting the engine, having no idea that it was the last time he would see James._

Sirius buried his head in his hands, thinking of the secret that he had been carrying around for sixteen years. He was the only one James had told about Lily's pregnancy, and he had not told anyone since. It seemed pointless, drudging up old secrets that would only cause pain.

Sighing softly he looked at the pictures on the floor beside him, before stuffing them into his pocket again. He stood up from his place on the staircase, and ascended, knowing exactly where he was going. He had surprised himself with the amount of self-control that he had been exercising throughout the past week, but the thought that Harry was most likely dead by now had pushed him over the edge.

It didn't take him long to enter the basement kitchen where Molly was pottering around, preparing a large dinner for the many people staying at Grimmauld Place. He barely acknowledged her presence as he entered the dark pantry. He stared at the shelves for a moment, trying to remember which it was.

He pushed a few items to the side, and pressed firmly against the back of the pantry, feeling the wall begin to vanish. He smiled with grim satisfaction as the wall disappeared completely, before reaching in and taking what he wanted.

The two bottles of elf-made wine clinked together ominously as he withdrew them from the secret compartment, watching as the wall began to reappear. His mother had been known to drink heavily at times, and had been unaware that her eldest son knew where she hid her alcohol.

He exited the pantry, not bothering to hide the bottles from Molly, who made her disapproval obvious as he walked by her. He walked quickly up the steps, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. He saw Remus ahead of him in the hallway, who immediately saw what Sirius was planning to do.

"What do you think you're doing?" Remus said angrily, grabbing Sirius' shoulder as he tried to walk by. "What have you got that for?"

Sirius said nothing, looking down the hallway past Remus.

"I think it's time," Sirius replied firmly, still not looking at his friend. "That I do some serious drinking."

Remus said nothing as Sirius pushed past him and continued down hallway. He reached the end and opened the heavy wooden door, stepping out onto the somewhat derelict back porch. He faltered for a moment, having not been on the back porch for many years. Smiling despite himself he sat down on one of the weathered chairs, placing one of the bottles on the table in front of him.

The dying sun cast an orange glow over the backyard as Sirius wrestled with the cork in the bottle, not bothering to use his wand. He pulled it out with a loud 'pop,' and immediately took a large mouthful.

He immediately pulled a face, the taste being stronger than he had expected. He swallowed, then sat back in the wooden chair, placing the bottle between his knees. He knew that getting drunk wouldn't fix his problems, but would at least put them on hold.

The back door opened with a loud creak, and Sirius looked up, expecting a long lecture the moment he saw it was Remus. However, he smiled, seeing that Remus himself was carrying two bottles of wine. His expression blank, Remus sat down in the weathered chair next to him, slapping the newspaper he had also been holding down on the table.

"What kind of friend would I be," Remus began. "If I let you get drunk by yourself?"

Sirius said nothing for a moment, before smiling again. He chuckled to himself softly and took another mouthful. Remus removed the cork from his own bottle and raised it to his lips.

"Wait," he said. "What should we toast to?"

Sirius faltered, the unexpected question throwing him off track. He frowned for a moment, before swallowing his mouthful of wine.

"Nothing," he replied somberly. "Nothing at all."


	41. Chapter 41

The sky had already turned black when Sirius threw his head back, taking a large mouthful of wine, spilling it slightly. He felt the liquid slide down his throat, and couldn't suppress the drunken smile that overcame him. Laughing slightly, he set the half empty bottle between his knees then relaxed back into his chair.

"So where were we?" he asked, grinning stupidly. He turned to Remus, who was already downing what was left of his bottle.

"You were trying to figure out how to kill Snape," he replied after swallowing, slurring slightly. "Without doing more time in prison," he added.

"Oh, that's right." Sirius replied, feeling deflated. "Merlin, I wish my mother was around, she'd know how to do it."

Remus laughed loudly, having already had too much wine. "Your mother is around! She hollers at you every time you walk past!"

Sirius chuckled as he picked up his bottle again, taking a small mouthful.

"Really, Moony," Sirius said as he relaxed back into his chair. "Why would they throw you in prison for killing a Death Eater? Shouldn't it be like a national service?"

"You'd think so," Remus replied as he snatched the bottle from Sirius, taking a large mouthful. "But no."

"Gimme that," Sirius snapped, snatching the bottle back. "Get your own bottle."

The fell silent, each of them staring at the darkened sky as angry clouds rolled in, threatening a thunderstorm.

"What are we doing here, Sirius?" Remus asked on a whim, not even knowing where it came from.

"We're numbing the pain of our miserable lives," Sirius mumbled, slightly incoherent.

"Our lives aren't miserable!" Remus exclaimed, slurring again.

"Yes," Sirius replied emphatically. "They are. We're nearly forty, and we're sitting on the back porch getting sloshed."

"Merlin," Remus replied. "Aren't we the optimist."

They fell into silence for a few moments, the two friends caught up in their own drunken thoughts. Sirius sipped at his wine as Remus uncorked his second bottle. Sirius smiled as he did this. Remus had always been able to 'out-drink' him, but had always paid for it severely when morning came.

Sirius looked down at the dark red contents of his bottle, wondering how long they had been aging in the back of the pantry before that night. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind he took another sip, determined to become completely drunk by the end of the night.

"Maybe if we drink enough, God will send us a stripper," Sirius muttered to himself absentmindedly.

"I didn't know you believed in God," Remus said, his head snapping around to look at him.

"Of course I believe in God," Sirius said, taking a large mouthful. "I hate the bastard."

Remus chuckled as Sirius leant forward, picking up the discarded newspaper that lay on the table. Purposefully ignoring the first page picture of Harry, he idly flicked through the pages, his eyes scanning over the various articles until one caught his eye.

"Merlin's pants!" Sirius exclaimed, gesturing at the paper. "Look at this! This couple just celebrated their fifty-third wedding anniversary!"

"Whoa, fifty-three years," Remus said in awe, leaning over to look at the article. "What do you think their secret is?"

"I'll take a guess," Sirius said, sipping from his wine bottle. "Their son wasn't murdered."

Remus scoffed, his demeanour changing suddenly. "Show offs."

Sirius took a large mouthful, downing what was left of the wine bottle, sudden realisation hitting him.

"Oh my God," he muttered to himself.

"What?" Remus slurred.

"I just realised something. I'm never going to celebrate a fifty-third wedding anniversary," he turned to look at Remus. "I'd have to live into my nineties."

Remus laughed loudly. "Padfoot, you'd have to find a woman who can put up with you for ten minutes, let alone 53 years!"

"Oh it can't be that hard!" Sirius exclaimed loudly.

"Well I'm sure there's a woman out there somewhere, who could put up with your annoying habits," Remus said sarcastically, taking a sip of wine.

"What annoying habits?"

"Oh I don't know!" Remus said loudly before taking a mouthful. "What about that thing you do?"

"What thing?" Sirius asked, feeling completely perplexed.

"You know, that thing," Remus said uncertainly. "That thing when you brush your teeth!"

Sirius frowned for a moment, thinking hard. "Why is everyone so amazed when I show the slightest association with dental hygiene?"

"I'm talking about that face you pull when you're brushing."

"I don't make a face!" Sirius said loudly.

"I shared a dormitory with you for seven years," Remus replied calmly. "Trust me, you pull a face."

Sirius opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off as the back door opened with a bang. Mrs Weasley stormed out, glaring at the two men.

"Dinner is ready," she snapped. She turned on the spot as though leaving, then hesitated, looking from Sirius, to the remaining bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table . Before either men could protest, she snatched the bottle from the table then stormed back inside.

They remained silent for a moment, before Sirius broke the silence. "Did she just do what I think she did?"

"I think she did," Remus muttered a few moments later, frowning.

They fell silent for a few moments, feeling strangely calm. Remus turned his head, staring blankly at the door Molly had exited through as though it were vaguely interesting. Frowning again, he turned his head back to Sirius.

"You know," he began. "I think you pissed Molly off."

Sirius said nothing, Remus' words bringing him back to reality.

"I don't care," he said, relaxing back into his chair. "God sent me to piss the world off."

"Oh," Remus said, leaning back into his chair also, the bottle of wine sloshing about. Frowning, Sirius looked from Remus to the coffee table, where his missing bottle of wine had been sitting.

"So I guess this means we're sharing," he muttered to himself.

Harry stared blankly at the wall beside him, feeling too exhausted to do anything else. The wooden floor was cool against his head, somewhat soothing the bruises that resided there, yet was extremely uncomfortable to be lying on for hours on end.

Time had seemed to fly past him since Snape left. Nightfall had come what seemed like minutes ago, and despite being summer, an unnatural chill had seeped through the room, chilling him to the bone. He had though briefly of Dementors, then had forced himself to push that thought to the back of his head.

He closed his eyes and gently rolled onto his back, trying to alleviate the discomfort that had developed in his shoulder from lying on such a hard floor. He breathed out as he shifted his head, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. Giving up, he brought his tightly bound hands towards his face, rubbing his eyes gently. He flinched as he accidentally brushed one of the wounds on his chest, left by Greyback's attack.

He looked down at the wounds on his chest and arms, dreading the possibility of what might happen when the full moon came. He knew it was unlikely that he would become a werewolf, considering that he had not actually been bitten, but he had not been able to push it to the back of his mind.

His eyes widened in surprise as the door opened suddenly, two Death Eaters quickly coming inside. They grabbed him by the rope binding his hands together, roughly hauling him to his feet. Harry suppressed a groan, feeling dizzy as he stood up suddenly, his legs feeling like they hadn't been used in years as they began walking.

He payed no attention as the two Death Eaters gripped his elbows tightly, leading him down the large spiral staircase. A heavy weight seemed to press heavily against his chest, reminding him of how tired he was, and how much he dreaded what would be happening next.

In what felt like no time at all, they reached the bottom of the staircase, the Death Eaters increasing their grip on his arms painfully, as though afraid he would make another run for it. Harry raised his head as they neared Voldemort, noting thankfully that there were not many others present. As expected, his scar began burning painfully, causing Harry to look down at the ground again.

They pushed him to his knees, jolts of pain shooting through them as they made contact with the ground. They left his hands tightly bound as they stepped away from him, awaiting for their master to speak.

No one spoke for the longest time, the silence pressing in on them on all sides. Harry stared at the ground, knowing that Voldemort was mere feet away from him. The silence made him uneasy, his heart pounding somewhere in his throat, yet he refused to look up, refused to give in.

Feeling Voldemort's gaze upon him, studying him closely, it suddenly felt harder to breath, as though he was only getting just enough air. Minutes passed, and Harry sensed the Death Eaters becoming restless, excitably anticipating Voldemort's first move. Harry focused on breathing, wishing to Merlin that he could simply tune out to his surroundings, that his mind could somehow be someplace else.

He heard Voldemort moving in his seat, and he tensed immediately. Voldemort looked at him for a few moments longer, before speaking quietly.

"Severus," he began. "The Veritaserum."

Harry's head snapped up at these words, dread flooding his body as he looked at Voldemort in shock.

"I thought this may get your attention," he said simply.

He looked from Voldemort to Snape, who had stepped forward, removing a small vial of clear liquid from the inside of his robes and handing it to Voldemort. He studied it for a moment, his face showing no emotion.

"No more playing around," Voldemort said to Harry, whose heart seemed to be beating faster by the minute.

Harry said nothing, as though he were temporarily paralysed. His brain was working at a hundred miles an hour, trying to process what was going to happen. He felt nauseas, and unconsciously stopped breathing as Voldemort handed the small vial back to Snape.

Before he could protest, strong hands seized him, holding him still. The desire to fight back was overwhelming him, yet he could not seem to make his body work. A hand tightly grasped his jaw, ready to force it open. He watched with dread as Snape opened the bottle and stepped towards him.

Suddenly something inside him seemed to click. He suddenly thrashed against the tight hold, momentarily surprising the Death Eaters holding him down. He fought against them furiously, but they held him too tightly, causing him to cry out in frustration.

"We can do this the hard way, or the easy way," Voldemort said, slightly amused. "That's really up to you."

He knew it was useless, but he didn't care. There was no way he was going to make it easy for them. Snape grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing his head back. Retaliating, Harry spat at him as hard as he could, feeling immense satisfaction when Snape gave a yell of disgust.

There was a loud bang as Voldemort suddenly stood up from his chair, brandishing his wand. Harry felt the force of the curse reverberating through his body, then began to feel its full effects. He immediately slackened in the tight hold of the Death Eaters, every muscle in his body relaxing, his head lolling forward. He groaned softly as he unsuccessfully tried to move, barely able to feel his body. His heart plummeted as Snape grasped his hair, pulling his head back. He could do nothing as Snape brought the vial to his mouth, pouring a few drops into his mouth.

Snape stared at him for a moment, his cold eyes boring into his own, his expression unreadable. He let go of his hair, before turning away from him, going to the side of the room. The other Death Eaters mimicked him, throwing Harry's limp body to the floor before going to the side of the room.

Harry lay limp on the cold floor, waiting for some sign that the potion had begun working. He felt nothing, except for the welcome relief that came as Voldemort relinquished the curse upon him, allowing him to push himself up to a half sitting position, not having the energy to do much else.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Voldemort turn on the spot, heading back to his armchair. Harry chanced a look at Snape, and was immensely confused when he gave him the smallest of nods.

"Where did Dumbledore go when he was absent from Hogwarts?" Voldemort asked as he sat down in his chair.

Harry turned his face toward the ground, expecting his confession to automatically come tumbling out of his mouth. When nothing happened, he glanced back over at Snape, who remained expressionless.

"I don't know," Harry said evenly, the lie coming as easily as his others had. "I don't know where he went."

Voldemort said nothing, furious at the answer he had been given. He said nothing for a few moments, before asking his next question.

"Where had Dumbledore been the night he was killed?"

"I don't know," Harry replied after a moment's pause, hiding the immense relief he felt at the second lie. He didn't dare change another glance at Snape, but knew whatever he had given him had not been Veritaserum. He thought back to the night that Dumbledore had questioned Barty Crouch, trying to remember how he had acted under the influence of the potion.

"How are the wards protecting the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters broken?" Voldemort asked, becoming increasingly impatient, having been sure that he would have all his answers that night.

"I don't know," Harry replied, purposefully leaving all emotion out of his voice, just as he remembered Crouch doing. "I never had anything to do with them."

"I suppose you had nothing to do with the meetings they held either," Voldemort asked, knowing what the answer would be."

"No," Harry replied. "I've never been to one."

Voldemort said nothing, observing the person before him. There was no doubt in his mind that the boy was telling him the truth, Severus had brewed the potion in his presence after all. Despite his frustration, he thought to himself for quite some minutes, planning his next course of action.

"Bella," he said loudly, calling one of his most faithful Death Eater.

"Yes, Master?" she replied eagerly, stepping forward from the edge of the room, removing her hood.

He looked at her for a moment, her eagerness pleasing him somewhat. "You still have the last thing the boy wrote?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied, stepping closer and drawing the piece of paper from inside her robes. "Lion-hearted minds."

"Good," he said. "Send it to Grimmauld Place, and send the new demands also."

"Yes, my Lord," she replied, before pulling her hood back over her head and leaving the room.

Harry kept his eyes glued to the floor, refusing to look up at Bellatrix as she left. Silence fell upon the room, his heart continuing to pound away in his throat.

"Take him upstairs," Voldemort said quietly, looking at Harry. "Severus, you know what to do."

Harry let out the breath he was holding, just as two Death Eaters took him firmly by the elbows, hoisting him to his feet. As they walked away, Harry twisted his head around and glanced back at Voldemort, whose cold red eyes stared blankly ahead. Harry faced forwards as they ascended the large spiral staircase, Snape leading the way ahead of them. Watching the back of his head, Harry could not figure out where the man's true allegiance lay.

He pushed these thoughts to the back of his head as they reached the top floor, entering the dark room where they would leave him. He was momentarily relieved as Snape severed the ropes that held his hands in front of him, only to have them resecured behind his back, even tighter than before. The Death Eaters either side of him continued holding his elbows tightly as Snape withdrew another vial from his robes, approaching Harry with it.

"You know how this works, Potter," Snape said, raising the vial to his mouth, tipping in a small mouthful.

Harry sneered as Snape did this, then spat it out at him just as he had done the previous time. They reacted immediately, throwing him to the ground and pinning him there. He wasn't sure why he was so determined to fight them, especially when he knew he could only lose, yet he did anyway.

Snape bent over him again and forced his mouth open, tipping a large mouthful in. He covered Harry's mouth and nose as he did last time, and one of the other Death Eaters grasped his hair, slamming his head against the ground as hard as they could.

Stars seemed to dance in front of his eyes, and he swallowed immediately, wondering again why he had bothered. Snape removed his hand, and Harry tried to draw breath, nearly choking as Snape tipped more of the potion into his mouth. Harry coughed violently, thrashing against their hold as they slammed his head into the hard floor again.

He forced himself to swallow again, and gasped for breath as they released him. He coughed violently and rolled onto his side as one of them kicked him hard in the face. He didn't bother to fight them as magical ropes wound tightly around his ankles, nor as a tight gag was tied up behind his head. He coughed again as they left, slamming the door shut behind them.

He groaned through the gag in his mouth, already feeling himself slipping away into unconsciousness. He could feel nothing except the immense pain his body was in, the increasing confusion of Snape's allegiance as he slipped into a potion induced sleep for the second time.

Raucous laughter filled the back patio of Grimmauld Place as Remus Lupin tipped his head back, taking large mouthfuls from the bottle of fire whisky he held. Having grown tired of the wine, Sirius had managed to get his hands on a bottle of Firewhisky, and they had been sharing it ever since.

Pulling a face, Remus tipped his head forward, removing the bottle from his lips. He coughed violently as his throat burned, causing Sirius to laugh even harder. His eyes watering, Remus began laughing along with his friend, setting the half empty bottle back on the coffee table. He put his elbows on his knees and leant on them for a few moments, composing himself.

Shaking his head, Sirius raised the cigar he held to his mouth, and clumsily lit it with his wand. He breathed it in and coughed slightly. Having not smoked in many years, he was unaccustomed to the strong taste of tobacco. Smiling, he leant back into his chair as Remus began speaking.

"You know," Remus began, his voice unsteady. "The last time I got drunk was when James and Lily died."

Sirius chuckled loudly. "Merlin. I can practically hear Lily telling us off."

Remus laughed, agreeing with him completely. "Now if James were here with us, she'd mainly be yellin' at him."

"I don't think he would have minded really," Sirius replied. "He would have passed out already."

"Ahh that's true," Remus agreed, remembering James lack of alcohol tolerance. "It would always end up just you and me."

Sirius smiled as he took the bottle of Firewhisky from the table, remembering the late nights they had all shared together in their youth.

"I think he'd be proud of you," Remus said suddenly, causing Sirius to choke on what he was swallowing.

"What?" he said, his eyes watering. "What for?"

"For the way things are with you and Harry," Remus said loudly, taking the cigar from Sirius' hand and putting it to his own mouth.

Sirius frowned, trying to figure out whether or not his friend was being serious. "I don't exactly think I'm the most eligible candidate for Father of the Year."

"Oh, you do alright!" Remus said loudly, brandishing his hand at nothing in particular.

Sirius took the cigar back from Remus, raising it to his own mouth and breathing deeply. He took a quick sip from the Firewhisky, then handed it back to Remus as he began speaking.

"Did you ever think we'd end up here?"

"What?" Remus laughed. "Drunk on the back porch? Yeah, I knew."

"No," Sirius replied. "I mean like this. I mean just you and me."

Remus frowned. "I don't know if it's me or the whisky, but I have no idea what you are on about."

"I dunno," Sirius muttered. "Did you ever think James and Lily would die? That Harry would?"

"Oh," Remus muttered. "Well when you put it that way, no."

"Okay," Sirius replied softly, before taking another drag from the cigar, not noticing the ash that fell into his lap.

"But Harry isn't dead," Remus added as an afterthought. "He's not dead!"

"I talked to Ginny," Sirius replied imperatively. "She said she heard it."

"No," Remus said, almost incoherently. "She only heard the curse!"

"Well who did old Voldy kill then?" Sirius said, turning in his seat. "Huh?"

Remus said nothing, and took another sip of the whiskey. "Maybe, he killed himself."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at his friend, before snatching the bottle of whiskey away from him. "You've had way too much. Learn to share."

Remus laughed and picked up the silver case that sat on the table, and opened it, taking out one of Orion Black's most expensive cigars. He too, clumsily lit it with his wand, before taking a long drag. The two friends sat in silence for quite some time, lost in their own thoughts.

Sirius sighed and took another sip from the bottle, feeling it burn all the way down his throat, sending warmth throughout his body. He sat back in his chair and relaxed for a few moments, before breaking the comfortable silence.

"God, I hate my life."

Remus laughed loudly at his words. "Oh, I know!" he agreed enthusiastically. "I wouldn't trade with you for anything!"

Remus' laughter seemed to be infectious, and Sirius laughed along with him, slightly shocked by such an honest response. Sirius screwed up his face as he laughed, his whole body shaking.

"Hey! hey!" Remus said loudly, trying to get Sirius' attention.

"What?" Sirius replied, tears in his eyes.

"Calm down already, I have a serious dilemma that I just remembered!"

"Alright," Sirius said, trying to calm himself down as he put out the cigar. "What is it?"

"Well, I've just been wondering," Remus began, before he started laughing again. Forcing himself to keep a straight face, he continued. "Boxers, or briefs?"

Sirius frowned, unsure of what Remus meant. "What do you mean?"

Remus looked at him emphatically, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Boxers or briefs!" he said again.

Still frowning, Sirius replied. "I'm familiar with the term, but why is it important?"

Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head, as though he had explained this before.

"Think about it," he replied. "Does Voldemort wear boxers? Or briefs?"

Sirius frowned, still not understanding what Remus was talking about for a moment. Suddenly his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, suddenly realising.

"Oh! You're sick Moony!" he laughed loudly.

"I know!" Remus said as he threw his hands in the air, ash dropping from the end of his cigar. "But he has to wear something!"

"I don't wanna know what he wears!" Sirius exclaimed. "That would be too much information."

They laughed loudly, Remus clutching his stomach as Sirius choked down another mouthful of Firewhisky. Their raucous laughter could be heard faintly in the basement kitchen, where everybody else was having a solemn dinner, some of them wishing they were upstairs with the two drunks.

"Hey Moony, listen to this!" Sirius exclaimed through his laughter, shaking his friend. "Listen!"

"What?" Remus said, trying unsuccessfully to calm himself down.

"Okay, okay get this," Sirius began, trying to stifle his laughter. "I actually thought, that Harry's uncle had been beating the crap out him!"

Remus snorted, not bothering to hide his laughter at what seemed an absurd statement. "Merlin, Padfoot! You're deluded! You actually thought that?"

"Yes!" Sirius exclaimed, before drinking the last of Firewhisky and setting the empty bottle back on the table.

"But not anymore!" he clarified insistently. "I know he would have told me, I trust him."

"You know Paddy," Remus began with a laugh. "He doesn't tell you everything."

Sirius frowned. "Yes he does!"

Remus laughed, almost unkindly. "No he doesn't," he insisted, before taking a long drag from his cigar. "Did he ever tell you he liked Ginny?"

Sirius opened his mouth, trying to find a witty response. "How could he tell me that? He was at school!"

Remus leaned closer to him, raising his eyebrows. "Ever heard of an owl?"

Sirius glared at him. "You suck, you know that?" he said as he snatched the remnants of the cigar from Remus' mouth, inhaling what was left of it.

"I know," Remus replied, sitting back in his chair without another word. Sirius mimicked him, staring blankly at the black sky ahead of him. He closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing his mind and body for just a few moments. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the empty bottle of whisky, before something caught his eye.

"Hey," he said softly, leaning toward it. "There's a drop left."

Remus too leaned forward, staring at the obvious remnants in the bottle. "No point in wasting it," he scoffed, reaching out for it.

Still annoyed at Remus' previous words, Sirius stuck out his leg, pushing his friend off balance. Remus fell to the floor with a loud thump, knocking the bottle off the table as he fell. It hit the wooden deck and smashed as the two men froze on the spot.

"Way to go," Remus said sarcastically, turning his head to glare at Sirius.

"Merlin's pants," Sirius muttered, shaking his head. "Have another cigar."

Remus glared at him again, but took the second cigar that Sirius held out to him. He remained sitting on the floor as they both clumsily lit their cigars, thankful that they didn't accidentally set themselves on fire.

Remus sighed with content as he inhaled, leaning his head against the chair he had been sitting in. He smiled gently to himself, before speaking.

"You know, Sirius," he began. "I have to say this. I really like Tonks."

"Yeah," Sirius replied, not even thinking. "She's hot."

Remus' mouth dropped open, just as Sirius realised exactly what he had said about his cousin. Sirius shook his head and sat back in his chair as he spoke again.

"I think it's time for more alcohol."

"Righto," Remus muttered softly. Sirius looked down at him, smiling as he saw him. He had shut his eyes was still leaning against the chair, the cigar still sitting in his mouth. Slightly surprised that he had managed to stay awake longer than Remus, he smiled slightly, raising his own cigar to his lips.

"Maybe not, then."


	42. Chapter 42

Purpose seemed to be flowing through his veins as Edward Proctor marched through the Auror Department, attracting curious glances from the people inside the cubicles that he passed. Memos zoomed past his head as he made his way through, Andrea Hadden almost jogging behind him in order to keep up. Proctor opened the door he had been approaching and stopped just inside, almost causing Hadden to collide with him.

He looked down the long wide hallway that was so familiar to him, and took a deep breath. He knew that he needed to be calm if he was going to keep his frustration inside of him, that he would need a clear head when he confronted his superior.

The frustration of standing aside while Corey had mishandled the Potter kidnapping had finally become too much. Corey's lack of leadership and organisation had been driving the investigation into the ground the moment it began. As the week wore on Edward had become increasingly frustrated with the lack of leads, and hearing second-hand that more contact had been made was the final straw.

Feeling much calmer, he began walking at a subdued pace, giving himself plenty of time to think before he reached Giles Corey's office. He heard footsteps behind him, and knew that Hadden was still following. He only had to wait a moment before she began talking.

"So, what exactly are you going to do?"

"I am simply going to point out the error of his ways," Proctor replied. "And hope that the deranged man will finally see reason."

"I was afraid of that," Hadden replied as they approached the secretary's desk.

"Just here for a chat, Yvonne," Proctor said, barely looking at her.

"Mmm hmm," she replied nonchalantly', continuing to shuffle a stack of parchment.

Knowing that Hadden would wait outside, he knocked loudly on Corey's door. Not bothering to wait for an answer, he opened the door and went inside.

"Good morning, Giles," he said lightly.

"Actually, it's afternoon," Corey replied, taking a moment before he looked up. Seeing who it was, he looked back down at the parchment he was writing on. "What can I do for you, Edward?"

"It's about the Potter case actually," he replied, sitting in the chair opposite the desk. "Last week you said you'd keep me posted on the developments."

"Yes, I believe I did," Corey replied, continuing to write. "So what's the problem?"

"You haven't been in contact," he replied simply.

Corey said nothing for a moment. "There hasn't been anything major to report."

"Since when has Death Eater contact been anything other than major?"

Corey remained silent, before replying solidly. "I hadn't got around to telling you."

"Well that's understandable," Proctor said, his frustration growing evidently. "Considering you only had since four o'clock this morning. And I still haven't received a copy of the transcript from your interview with Ginny Weasley."

"Take that up with Yvonne, it was her responsibility."

Proctor didn't reply, anger seething throughout his whole body. He stared incredulously at Corey, trying to understand why the man was being so evasive to his questions. He shook his head gently before speaking gently.

"Corey, I don't like to come into another man's office, and tell him how to do his job." He stood up from his seat. "But today I'm going to make an exception."

Corey put down his quill and looked up at Proctor, his face free from any emotion. "Well by all means, go on."

Proctor paused for a moment, before posing a question that he knew Corey would not have an answer for.

"What are you going to do about the new demand?" he asked. "Obviously, we cannot release the high-security prisoners from Azkaban in exchange for Potters life."

"Obviously," Corey replied, avoiding the question.

"What leads have you uncovered?" Proctor asked before firing another question at him. "Why are you not investigating the high levels of magical activity in Great Hangleton."

Corey said nothing, staring at Proctor with his eyebrows raised. He looked down at the parchment he had been writing on before looking up again a moment later.

"What do you take me for?" he replied evenly. "An imbecile? I am perfectly capable of handling a simple kidnap."

Proctors frustration reached its peak, and he suppressed a groan ran his fingers through his hair.

"Merlin!" he cursed, losing what control he had. "Don't you understand Corey? This isn't a simple kidnap case. It doesn't matter what demands they make, it's not a ransom. You know who is not going to give him back alive."

"Proctor," Corey began, raising his voice also. "What do you think gives you the right-"

"Corey!" he said loudly, cutting him off from his sentence. "You cannot afford to sit around and wait for them the keep making the next move!"

Corey opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as Yvonne entered the office, not caring that she was interrupting.

"Corey, the Prophet still isn't happy about 'no comment.' You're going to have to give them something before too many more rumours start flying around."

"Yvonne," Corey said angrily. "Could you give us a minute?"

Ignoring him, she placed a pile of parchment onto his desk as she kept talking. "Your wife just flooed me, she said if you aren't home by eight o'clock she's bringing the kids and dinner time to your office."

The two men fell silent as Yvonne left, her presence seemed to have driven them into a stalemate of some kind. Proctor breathed deeply as he folded his arms across his chest, before speaking again.

"So, the floo network is working again?"

"Yes, it is," Corey replied, looking forlornly at the pile of parchment on his desk. He looked back up at Proctor. "I suppose I'm not completely incompetent."

Proctor said nothing, still furious.

"Close the door on your way out," Corey added, rifling through the paperwork. Proctor said nothing for a moment, before turning on his heel and exiting, not bothering to close the door. He walked straight past Hadden, who immediately followed him, struggling to keep up again.

"That went well," she said as they walked down the wide hallway, towards the door at the end.

"I can't let this go on," Proctor said, ignoring her remark. "Something has to be done."

"You know, Proctor," Hadden said as they passed through the door, entering the main section of the Auror Department. "After what Weasley has told us, the chances that Potter is still alive are very remote. "

Proctor stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her incredulously as people bustled busily around them. "So what? Does that mean we just give up? Do we take away the only chance he has?"

"Of course not," Hadden replied softly. "That's not what I meant."

"Good," he said before continuing on his way.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Hadden inquired as they weaved their way through the many people in the department.

"I'm going over his head."

"To Scrimgeour?" Hadden replied in awe.

"Yes," Proctor clarified. "I just hope he's willing to listen."

Hermione lay on her bed at Grimmauld Place, her thick brown hair splayed out on the pillow. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting shadows on the wall near Ginny, where she lay on her bed, flipping through an old book that Hermione did not recognise.

Hermione had been hoping for some time to herself, where she could just read and forget about the things going on around her. Yet even reading didn't seem able to distract her longer than a few minutes. The charms text book she had been flipping through now lay on the floor beside her, discarded after only ten minutes.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her mind wandering back to early that morning, when another note from Harry had come out of the fireplace, along with another demand. Her heart seemed to sink down somewhere around her stomach as she thought of this, knowing that there was no way the Auror Department could possibly release the entire high-security population of Azkaban, even if it was supposedly in exchange for Harry's life.

She wondered briefly about the words that Harry had allegedly written, trying to make sense of his words. She wondered briefly if 'lion-hearted minds' was a Gryffindor motto she had not yet heard, yet still could not make sense of the first note, 'hell tattling one.' She hoped desperately that Harry had not begun to lose his grip on things, hoping to Merlin that he was okay.

Hermione turned her head to the side, looking at Ginny almost, feeling as gloomy as the old room in which they were staying. She had heard about the things Ginny had said, about how she thought Harry was dead. The desire to ask Ginny about these things herself had been burning stronger in the few days that had passed, yet Hermione could not bring herself to bring up the topic. She didn't want to pry, worried that she may upset Ginny further. She sighed gently, before speaking softly.

"What are you reading?"

Ginny took a moment before looking up, as though unsure of who Hermione had been speaking to.

"Oh," she began. "It's just a book of riddles and brainteasers. Harry and I were looking through it the other week."

"Oh," Hermione said, staring at the cover. Her eyes had automatically drawn to it as Ginny spoke, and she felt as though she could not take her eyes from it. Something had been burning in the back of her mind all morning, and it seemed to intensify the more she looked at the book.

"Why don't you read one out?" Hermione suggested, not taking her eyes from the book.

"Okay," Ginny said uncertainly after a moment, flipping through the pages. "A man went outside during a storm, and not one hair on his head was wet. How did this happen?"

"He had an umbrella," Hermione answered immediately, taking her eyes from the book and looking at Ginny for affirmation.

"Close," she said, her voice full of melancholy. "He was wearing a raincoat."

Hermione smiled, not bothering to protest at the answer.

"Don't worry 'Mione," Ginny said, rolling onto her back. "Harry got that one wrong too."

Hermione glanced up at her at these words, unsure that Ginny had even said Harry's name the last few days. The intense burning at the back of her mind resurfaced as she looked at Ginny, her eyes again being drawn to the book she held in her hands. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, revelling in the moment in which she seemed completely alone with her thoughts. She opened her eyes as she began speaking, unsure of where her words were coming from.

"Gin?"

"Yeah?" she replied, slightly off hand as she flipped through the pages of the book.

Hermione sat up hesitantly, knowing that Ginny would most likely protest at her suggestion. "Why don't we talk."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, looking over at Hermione incredulously. "You mean, feelings?"

"Yeah," Hermione affirmed, slightly sheepish.

"Aww 'Mione," Ginny whined. "You know I hate that mushy girly stuff."

"Fine," Hermione said, standing up from her bed and approaching Ginny's. "I'll start."

She nudged Ginny's legs out of the way and lay down, her head next to Ginny's feet. She smiled at the chipped nail polish on her toes, before speaking again.

"I feel like I've missed something," she began. "Something huge, and obvious, which has just passed me by."

There was a pause, and then Ginny sighed audible. "How does that make you feel?" she replied evenly.

"Sort of like I've been buried alive," Hermione replied immediately. "Like I'm stuck, and I can't do anything about it."

Ginny said nothing for a moment. "Like the feeling you get the night before a test you haven't studied for?"

"I guess so," Hermione replied. "But I've never had that feeling."

Ginny laughed softly, throwing the book to the floor beside her bed. Hermione watched awkwardly as it fell to the floor, it's cover face down. She stared at it, again feeling as though she could not take her eyes off it. She breathed in deeply for a few moments as she felt her chest and throat tightening, tears suddenly threatening to fall.

"Merlin," Ginny cursed. "This really sucks."

"Yeah," Hermione said, suppressing her tears for a moment, before speaking hesitantly. "Do you think it would help, if we cried?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied offhandedly. "Probably."

Hermione nodded, tightening her lips. "Are you going to?"

"No!" Ginny scoffed.

"Okay then," Hermione replied quickly, suppressing a smile at Ginny's reaction. Ginny rolled onto her side, facing away from Hermione. Her finger traced the wall absently, as though tracing a pattern only she could see. They lay in silence for what seemed to be the longest time, before Hermione broke the silence, suddenly asking Ginny the question she had been avoiding.

"You think Harry's dead," she began. "Don't you."

Ginny said nothing, not even acknowledging the question. She continued tracing the wall until Hermione looked away from her. Finally Ginny spoke, but not answering Hermione's question, but asking one of her own that had been burning like wildfire inside of her.

"The prophecy is real, isn't it."

Hermione too remained completely silent, unsure of what to say, but knowing that their silence was saying more than words could.

Giles Corey approached the door to the minister's office, knowing what was going on. He knew the moment that he had received the memo summoning him here, that Proctor had gone to Scrimgeour, complaining about the way the Potter investigation was turning out. He hated to admit this to himself, but he had to agree somewhat with Proctor, this investigation had been going nowhere, and he had done nothing about it. To be completely honest, he had little idea what he should be doing. He put these thoughts aside, knowing that he had to defend himself against Proctor, who had already blackened his name throughout the department.

He knocked loudly on the door, opening it as he heard Scrimgeour inviting him in. He stepped inside, and almost didn't see Proctor, who was standing in the corner closest to him. He looked at him blankly for a moment, before looking back at the minister, who was sitting comfortably at his desk.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked coolly, feigning ignorance.

Scrimgeour took a moment before speaking, as though trying to say his words as sensitively as possible.

"Proctor," he said, gesturing to him. "Has come to me with some very serious concerns. Concerns regarding your investigation into the kidnap of Harry Potter."

"Has he?" Corey replied, looking over at Proctor. Edward stood in the corner saying nothing, his arms folded decisively.

"Yes, he has," Scrimgeour replied, sitting back into his chair. "So Giles, do I need to be concerned, or is everything under control?"

"Of course everything is under control!" Giles replied, his voice slightly raised. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Scrimgeour looked at Proctor, his gaze telling him that he should speak.

Proctor looked Corey in the eye before speaking, not letting his gaze falter. "Why is it, that after nine days, the only thing you have achieved is a botched rescue and a bunch of pissed off Death Eaters."

"How dare you!" Corey said harshly, taking a step towards Proctor who did not respond.

"Giles," Scrimgeour said, his tone full of warning. "I want to hear this."

"Yes, Proctor," Corey said quickly, his voice full of sarcasm. "What would you do better?"

"Well for starters," Proctor began, taking a small step towards Corey. "I wouldn't be sitting in my office catching up on paper work, and investigating the kidnapping in my leisure time."

"Well what do you propose I do then?" Corey said loudly, his frustration reaching its peak. "We have no leads. We know who took him, but have no idea where any of them are. Oh and by the way, we have spent over two decades trying to pin down the man who is behind it all. What do you propose I do?"

"Well number one, Corey," Proctor said loudly. "I would can the attitude. How you expect to get anything useful done with an outlook like that is beyond me. Number two, I would pull the best Aurors from all over the department, and have them working day and night on anything that we have."

"We have nothing to work with!" Corey said loudly, throwing his hands in the air for a moment.

"And pray tell," Proctor said, raising his voice above Corey's. "Why was Ginny Weasley only questioned? Why didn't you take a copy of her memory like you did with her brother?"

"For Merlins sake!" Corey said, turning back to the minister. "Scrimgeour, how can you listen to this? This is just a power struggle!"

"With all respect, Minister," Proctor said gently, making sure not to raise his voice. "You know perfectly well that this isn't about power."

Proctor faced Corey again, almost begging him to listen. "The fact is, there is a seventeen year old at the mere mercy of you know who, not to mention the fact that this person is Harry Potter." He took his eyes from Corey, and looked back at the minister, trying to get across what he was trying to say.

"We cannot sit around, and do nothing," Proctor said, his voice full of concern and legitimacy.

Proctor and Corey fell silent, waiting for the minister to respond. Scrimgeour studied the mahogany desk before him, his face impassive, giving away nothing. The silence seemed to stretch on, and neither Proctor nor Corey broke it, both of them giving the minister ample time to respond. After a little while, the minister raised his head and looked at Corey.

"Give me one good reason why I should not make Proctor the new head of this investigation."

Proctors heart seemed to soar at these words, yet he remained completely impassive as he waited for Corey to answer.

"Well," Corey said after a moment, his voice even and toneless. "It's obvious you've already made your decision."

"Yes," Scrimgeour replied. "I have."

Corey did nothing, only stared at the minister, his face set. "I'll have Yvonne send you my notes on the investigation," he said to Proctor, not looking at him.

Proctor nodded, hardly believing the situation. Corey said nothing further as he swiftly turned on his heel and left, his robes billowing behind him. Scrimgeour's door slowly closed after Corey passed through it, and the two men remaining looked at it for a moment.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Scrimgeour asked.

Proctor turned back to him and looked him in the eye. "I believe it is what's best for Potter."

Scrimgeour nodded. "You understand that if anything goes wrong, you will take the fall for it. Whether or not it is your fault."

"I understand," Proctor confirmed.

They fell silent, and having not yet been dismissed, Proctor remained where he was. Scrimgeour sat back into his chair and rubbed his eyes, running his hand through his messy hair.

"I only ever met Potter once," he said. "And I didn't get what I wanted from him. "

Proctor nodded affirmatively, unsure of where this conversation was going.

"There was something about him, that just seemed different," he continued. "I couldn't help liking him."

Proctor said nothing, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully Scrimgeour spoke again, and he knew that he was dismissed.

"Make sure Potter returns in one piece."


	43. Chapter 43

It was mid afternoon as Severus Snape strode down the muggle street, his Death Eater robes billowing behind him. He looked further down the road, seeing the house he was approaching in the distance.

He and Dumbledore both knew that being spy for Voldemort would carry considerable risk, especially to Harry, but Snape never would have predicted that he would be the one to kidnap him. By now the Aurors would already have him on their 'most wanted' list, a list that was growing considerably, but it was not the Aurors who worried him. He knew he would have great difficulty explaining his innocence to the Order, especially since he had been forced to murder their leader.

He inwardly cursed Dumbledore and his manipulative ways, blaming him for the mess that had been created. He thought of the promise he had made to Dumbledore, promising to force Draco to step aside, promising to kill Dumbledore himself. At the time, he had known it would end badly, yet followed through.

He knew the high risk of what he was about to do, yet knew that he could not put it off any longer. The Dark Lord had quickly grown tired of Potter, and Severus knew that the treatment he was receiving would only get worse. The sleeping potion that he had given Potter on two occasions was a very strong one, and he was already concerned that he had given the boy too much of it.

However, now knowing that he was doing something to get Potter out of there, he pushed his concerns to the back of his mind, quickening his pace as he approached the house. Scanning his eyes around for Muggles, he pulled out his wand as he walked down the garden path, the gravel crunching beneath his feet.

He waved his wand at the front door and it opened with a loud bang, slamming against the wall behind it. He stepped inside the front door, his wand held out in front of him threateningly. The was a loud gasp to his left, and he turned just in time to see a young girl dashing out of the living room. He quickly followed her, cornering her in the kitchen as she tried to escape through the back door.

"My father isn't here," Demelza Robbins said quickly as she turned around to face him, knowing the reason that he was here. Severus stepped forward, glaring down at her as he pointed his wand towards her chest. She stepped backwards again, pressing herself against the kitchen bench.

"He's not here!" she insisted, her voice rising with terror. Severus could see her trembling, and automatically knew that she was lying.

"Demelza?" Hugh Robbins called. "What's wrong?" he said as he entered the kitchen, stopping in his tracks when he saw Snape. Everyone stood motionless for a moment, the reality of the situation sinking into Hugh's mind.

"Get out," he said firmly to his daughter, speaking again when she didn't move. "Go to your room!"

Snape turned his wand to Hugh as Demelza hesitated momentarily, but then left the room as fast as she could. The two men said nothing for a few moments, before hearing the sound of Demelza's bedroom door closing.

Snape pointed to the table that sat in the kitchen. "Sit down," he said coldly.

"I already told you people," Hugh replied as he sat down. "I'm not helping you anymore."

Snape said nothing for a moment, then pulled of his black hood as he began. "Who says that it's us that wants your help?"

"Then what are you doing here?" Hugh asked fearfully. "I gave you Potters home address, what more do you want?"

"I want you to turn yourself in to the Auror Department."

"What?" he said in dismay, his heart pounding in fear. "I can't do that. They'd send me to Azkaban."

Ignoring this, Snape continued, stepping forward, his wand still pointed threateningly at Hugh. "Go to Edward Proctor, tell him you know where Harry Potter is."

Hugh's eyes widened considerably, but he said nothing as Snape continued talking. "Tell them that he is hidden in The Riddle Mansion, in Little Hangleton, and that the wards will be taken off tomorrow night, at seven o'clock."

"I don't understand," Hugh said quietly. "Is that where he really is?"

"Yes," Snape replied dryly, stepping towards him. "You have one hour to tell them, or your daughter will not be going back to Hogwarts."

Severus turned on his heel and exited the kitchen, speaking just as he was out of sight. "You did not hear this from me."

Jeremiah Quentin sat at the long wooden table silently, paper strewn out in front of him. The conference room around him buzzed actively, Aurors bustling around loudly as they completed the tasks set out to them by Proctor.

Quentin smiled inwardly, secretly glad that Proctor had taken over the investigation. Now, at least things seemed to be moving forward with some sense of organisation, rather than waiting around for a lead to fall into their laps.

His eyes scanned over the parchment he held, trying to piece together why Potter had sent them such absurd messages. He skimmed through the report that Minerva McGonagall had put together regarding his schoolwork, getting a completely different side to the boy who was portrayed in the media.

'Potter is an intelligent young man, although does not always apply this to his school work, preferring to focus his efforts towards the Quidditch pitch. His class work and assessment work are consistent, and have improved steadily over the course of his education.'

He stopped reading, not needing Professor McGonagall to tell him that Potter was an intelligent person. He knew this already. He put down the report and picked up the parchment that he had been scribbling on. He looked at each of the four messages in turn, scrutinising every possible explanation for the two that he did not understand.

'The Pitch' and 'Roonil Wazlib' had both been explained as rational, yet no body had made sense of 'Hell-Tattling One' or 'Lion-Hearted Minds.' Unable to organise his thoughts he stood up, running his fingers through his hair as he slowly began walking. He walked slowly, contemplating getting himself a coffee when he stopped in front of the board, on which someone had written out a detailed timeline. His eyes stopped on the picture of Ginny Weasley, and the notes regarding her involvement. He briefly wondered whether or not she had been called back in for another interview.

He sighed softly, refusing to admit defeat as he turned around and went back to the table. He slumped down in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table restlessly. He closed his eyes as he tried to think, tried to make sense of the messages that no one could understand.

He automatically reached into the inside pocket of his robes, pulling out what looked like a bright red eraser. He smiled as he looked at the Revealer that he often used simply out of habit. So far it had not proven useful when trying to solve a case, yet it had become a sort of tradition to use it at one time or another, and now seemed a reasonable time to use it. He gently rubbed it against the first message he had written on the parchment, not really paying attention.

His frowned with surprise as the letters in the message 'Hell-Tattling One' began moving on the parchment, slowly forming a new word. His eyes widened in shock as the letters formed the name 'Little Hangleton.'

Proctors mind was reeling, trying to understand what Jeremiah Quentin was trying to tell him. The two of them marched through the Auror Department, heading towards Proctors office.

"Say that again?" he said in disbelief as they passed through a set of large oak doors.

"If you rearrange the letters of the messages that Potter sent us, they spell the name of a town, and the name of a property."

"What ones?" Proctor said as he looked at him in disbelief.

"The message 'Hell-Tattling One' turns into Little Hangleton, and 'Lion-Hearted Minds' becomes The Riddle Mansion."

Proctor stopped dead in his tracks, cursing under his breath.

"That's not all," Quentin said. "Ginny Weasley said that it was raining that night, and over the weekend, Little Hangleton had heavy rainfall and-"

"High levels of magical activity," Proctor finished. "Yes, I know."

The two men fell silent, Proctor folding his arms across his chest as he thought quietly.

"Who else have you told?"

"Only you, sir," Quentin replied.

Proctor rubbed the back of his neck nervously, pacing slightly as he tried to organise his thoughts.

"We can't jump to conclusions," he said, more to himself than to Quentin. "This could easily be a trap."

"We can't ignore this," Quentin replied imperatively.

Proctor continued to look at the floor, his arms folded firmly across his chest before speaking again. "How sure of this are you?"

"He's in Little Hangleton," Quentin replied surely. "I'd bet my mother on it.

"Okay," Proctor replied after a moment, still feeling the need to treat this new lead with scepticism. "Look, I've got some guy in my office demanding to see me. I need you to check out what type of magic is being used at that house. Tell no body what you are doing."

"Okay boss," Quentin replied, slightly annoyed with Proctors scepticism.

Quentin turned and left, leaving Proctor standing in the middle of the quiet hall. He shook his head to himself, knowing that every lead needed to be treated with scepticism until proven, yet not wanting to be like Corey, who seemed to refuse to treat anything as important. Breathing in deeply, Corey opened the door to his office and stepped inside, taking note of the man pacing the room.

"Mr Robbins, I believe?" he said as he entered, holding his hand out to shake. Hugh Robbins ignored the hand that was being held out, feeling as though he had little time for formalities.

"I need to talk to you, Mr Proctor," he said imperatively. "It's about Harry Potter."

"I beg your pardon?" Proctor said, almost sounding rude.

"I know where he is," Robbins replied without skipping a beat. "They told me."

"Take a seat, please," Proctor said as he too sat down, his heart seemed to beat faster as he did so. "Start from the beginning."

Robbins ignored this, continuing to pace back and forth nervously. "I work for the Department of Child Welfare," he began hesitantly. "Harry Potter has a record with us, because he was legally adopted by his Godfather, when he was fifteen."

"Yes, I know," Proctor said quietly. "What has that got to do with his kidnapping?"

Robbins ran his fingers through his greying hair, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts into understandable words. "They came to me."

"Who?" Proctor asked.

"Death Eaters!" Robbins replied nervously. "About a week before Potter went missing."

"What did they want?"

Robbins said nothing for a few moments, and Proctor did not feel the need to push him to continue.

"You have to understand," he continued weakly. He gripped the back of the chair that he had been offered. "They were going to kill my daughter. I had no choice."

'They wanted his address!" he replied, the anguish clear on his face. "They wanted to know where he lived. They made me look up his file, and tell them where he was living."

"So you're being black mailed?" Proctor said, trying to keep the coldness and anger out of his voice.

"Yes," Robbins replied.

"So how do you know where he is?"

"One of them came back to me," he replied.

"Who was it?"

"I don't know!" Robbins lied, knowing that Proctor would never believe him if he told who it really was. "They had a hood on!"

They fell into silence for a few moments, giving Proctor the chance to get a decent look at Robbins. His obvious nervousness seemed genuine, and he hoped to Merlin that this man was telling the truth.

"You do realise," Proctor began, letting his frustration get the better of him. "That you could have stopped all of this. All you had to do was come to us before now."

"They were going to kill my daughter," he said, sorrow etched across his face. "But you have to believe me, I didn't want any of this to happen to Potter."

"It's not just him," Proctor replied, standing up. "His best friend was involved, his girlfriend was kidnapped as well. His whole family has been through hell."

Robbins looked at the ground, shame coursing through his veins. "They're not the only ones."

Proctor studied him for a moment, trying to determine if his story was genuine or not. Just like anagrams that Quentin had uncovered, this man needed to be treated with upmost scepticism. He sighed gently as he sat back down at his chair.

"So, Mr Robbins," he began. "Where do you think Potter is?"


	44. Chapter 44

Ginny lay in her bed at Grimmauld Place, listening to Hermione's rhythmic breathing from across the room. Sighing with frustration, she rolled over onto her side, looking out the window beside her bed. She had gone to bed hours ago, not keen on letting herself fall asleep after the nightmares she experienced the previous night. She remembered how terrified she had been when she had woken up, even though she knew it was only a dream. For a moment she wished her mother had allowed her another sleeping potion, but knew she would probably sleep through most of tomorrow morning.

She raised her arm in front of her, the moonlight streaming through the window lighting it up in the dark. She looked at the green and blue bruise, the only injury she had received, despite being subjected to the Cruciatus curse. Not caring that it hurt like hell, she pressed it, wincing as the pain seemed to shoot straight to her shoulder. She wiggled her fingers for a moment, before throwing back her bed sheets in frustration.

Ginny sat up and swung her legs around the side of the bed, standing up quietly so that she didn't disturb Hermione. She tip toed over to the door and listened carefully, knowing that her mother had a habit of wandering the hallways lately. When she heard nothing she opened the door hesitantly and slipped out into the dark hall way. She paused for a few moments, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She quietly walked up the hallway and ascended the staircase to the third floor, stopping outside of Ron's room.

She raised her hand to the door knob, hesitation as she wondered whether or not she should go in. she thought back to the times when she had snuck into his room during the night when they were both children. He had always glared at her for waking him up, but had never failed to pull back the covers, inviting her to squeeze in next to him for the night.

She bit her lip as she gently opened his bedroom door and poked her head in, hearing his loud snores with relief. She slipped inside the door, her heart jumping as it creaked loudly when she shut it. She paused for just a moment before approaching the large lump that lay underneath the covers. She sat on the edge and slipped her hand underneath, feeling around for the mop of hair that was somewhere under there. Finding his head she unceremoniously shook him awake, pulling back the covers as she did so.

"Ron," she hissed. "Wake up you great lump." She shook him again, smiling with satisfaction as he suddenly raised his head, his eyes blinking furiously as he struggled to comprehend what had woken him at such a late hour. He slowly focused on her face, staring at her in confusion for a few moments before glaring as she knew he would.

"What?" he said exasperated. "What?"

She smiled hesitantly before answering. "I can't sleep."

Ron stared at her in confusion, taking a moment for him to remember what they had done in their childhood, to understand what she was implying.

"Well," he said, his voice still heavy with sleep as he pulled back the covers and scooted over a little. "You better get in."

She slipped in beside him, smiling as she felt the warmth underneath the covers. They settled in and got comfortable, Ginny silently thanking Merlin that it was a double bed. They may have been able to fit in Ron's single bed as children, but wouldn't have managed it now.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Ron said sleepily

Ginny glared at him before replying. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"Well," Ron mumbled to himself. "Why can't you sleep?" he added.

Ginny shrugged before answering, not wanting to reveal the real reason. "Dunno. A lot on my mind, I guess."

They fell silent, neither of them having a lot to say. Ginny watched her brother for a moment, remembering how close they had been as children. She briefly wondered when exactly they had begun growing apart, then recalled the day Ron had received his Hogwarts letter. She could clearly remember the conflicting feelings of joy for her brother, and jealousy that he would be going without her.

"Hey," Ginny whispered, gaining Ron's attention. "Where did Tonks go tonight?"

"What do you mean?" Ron muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"She left half way through dinner."

"Mmm," Ron murmured. "Remus said she got called into work."

Ginny frowned, raising her head off the pillow slightly. "Do you think it was Harry?"

"No," Ron replied after a moments consideration. "They would have said something."

"I suppose," Ginny replied, laying her head back onto the pillow. She shifted position slightly, resting her hand next to her stomach. She was thoroughly surprised when Ron reached out towards her, grasping her hand inside his own, squeezing it firmly for a moment.

Ginny smiled as she began speaking. "Do you think they're any closer to finding Harry?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders, not answering. A sudden burst of anger filled Ginny as she recalled her ordeal, the look on Harry's face when he saw her seemed to be burned into her memory. She pulled her hand from Ron's grasp and sat up suddenly, startling Ron as her anger got the best of her.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, sitting up also.

Ginny said nothing for a moment, her jaw set in a firm line as she forced the image of Harry's battered body from her mind's eye. "Damn it," she muttered, burying her head in her hands so that Ron would not see her face.

"What?" Ron asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Ginny could feel the tears threatening to fall, but she held them back, refusing to allow herself to cry. "Why is it always him?" she asked through her hands. "Hasn't he got enough to deal with?"

Ron didn't know how to answer her, having never been the type of person who was good with words. He rubbed her shoulder awkwardly, hoping to Merlin that he didn't say anything stupid.

"Is that why you couldn't sleep?" he asked. "You were thinking about Harry."

Ginny nodded as she drew in a shuddering breath, lifting her head from her hands and awkwardly staring at the bed. They sat in silence for a few moments, neither of them knowing what to say to each other. Still staring at the bed, Ginny felt a tear fall from her eye, rolling down her cheek. She reached up to wipe it from her face as more began flowing freely from her eyes.

"Have you been having nightmares?" she asked, her voice thick and heavy with sadness.

"One, or two," Ron muttered.

"They're horrible," Ginny said, not completely believing that she was bearing her soul to her brother like this. "I'm so sick of them."

Ron nodded, pondering whether or not he should ask the question that he had been burning to ask. "When they took you, you saw Harry, right?"

Ginny nodded silently, knowing where Ron was going with this. Wiping her face with her hand, she waited for him to continue.

"It's just," he began nervously, not entirely sure of how to say this sensitively. "I heard Remus saying that you think he's dead."

Unable to look her brother in the eye, Ginny looked down at the bed again before answering. "I don't know," she muttered, her voice threatening to give out on her. "I heard the curse."

"Well, what one did you hear?" Ron said hopefully. "It might have been the wrong one."

Ginny shrugged, not wanting to weigh Ron down with this.

"What did you hear?" Ron said, almost urgently. "Gin,"

"I'm going back to bed," Ginny whispered as she stood up. Not wanting her to leave just yet Ron grabbed her hand, trying to pull her back.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I'll shut up."

"No, it's okay," she lied as she pulled her hand from his grasp and headed for the door. "I should get some sleep anyway."

"Alright," Ron said softly as Ginny left, closing the door behind her. He stayed sitting for a few minutes, his mind seemed to be blissfully blank before he lay back down for another night of restless sleep.

Harry could feel himself slowly waking up, but did nothing to speed up the process. His chest felt unusually heavy, the gag in his mouth significantly restricting his breathing as he tried to ignore the pain that wracked his body. He breathed slowly for a few minutes, feeling himself coming around. He tried to move, but stopped immediately, groaning softly as a wave of intense pain flashed through his muscles. He clenched his jaws together as the pain slowly ebbed away, leaving him feeling weaker than ever. He vaguely noted that he was still lying on his side, having not moved since he had fallen unconscious.

He heard the door open, footsteps echoing around the room as Harry's heart sank. He simply did not have the energy or strength to resist Voldemort any longer.

"What's the problem, Rookwood?" Snape quietly said to the Death Eater that Harry had not noticed. "Why did you call me?"

"He's waking up," Rookwood replied. There was silence for a few moments as Snape stared at the boy lying on the cold floor. He knew that Voldemort wanted Potter unconscious, but was wary of continually drugging him.

Snape sighed with frustration, torn between Voldemort's orders and his allegiance to Dumbledore. "Leave us," he said sharply to Rookwood, who didn't move.

"I'm guarding him," he replied sternly.

"Does it look like I care?" Snape snapped. Rookwood hesitated, but swiftly left, closing the door behind him.

Harry's heart pounded fiercely as he heard Snape approaching, unsuccessfully withholding a groan of pain as Snape rolled him over to his back. Snape clenched his fists in the neck of Harry's shirt, roughly pulling him up to sit against the wall. Harry groaned again as dizziness washed through his head, clenching his eyes and jaws shut at the incredible pain.

Snape crouched down to his level, and suddenly reached towards his face. Too weak to hide his fear, Harry flinched openly, his whole body rigid, anticipating a blow at any moment. Seeing this, Snape hesitated, staring into Harry's emerald eyes as though he had never seen them before. He quickly pulled himself together and reached behind Harry's head, untying the knot that held the gag in place.

He threw the material aside as Harry breathed in gratefully. Snape carefully studied Harry, who had looked away, refusing to meet his eye again. Harry flinched again as Snape reached his hand forward again, wrapping it around his throat almost gently. Snape could feel the apprehension in the boy's body as he pressed his thumb firmly into the side of his neck, feeling his rapid pulse before releasing him and pressing the back of his hand to Harry's forehead. He could clearly feel the high temperature of his skin, despite the cold sweat that covered his body.

"What day is it?" Harry asked softly as Snape removed his hand.

"It's Thursday afternoon," Snape replied after a moment of hesitation. "Are you in any pain?"

"Merlin," Harry cursed. "What the hell do you think?"

Snape did not reply, noticing for the first time Harry's shallow breathing, and the blue colour of his lips. It was difficult to tell the colour of his skin through the bruises on his face, but he knew that he would have been quite pale. Ignoring his own concerns he reached into his robes and withdrew a small vial of purple potion and pulled the stopper.

He placed his hand behind Harry's head, holding him steady as he brought the Sleeping Potion towards his lips. "Drink this."

His hatred for Snape seemed to cloud his judgement, and Harry shook his head defiantly, his lips firmly closed.

"Drink it, or I will make you," Snape said firmly, clenching his fists in Harry's hair painfully. Harry shook his head again, almost sneering at Snape, even though he knew he wouldn't win.

Snape glared at him before calling out for Rookwood. Snape looked at him as he entered the room and nodded, an unknown communication passing between the two of them.

Rookwood crossed the room quickly, swiftly kicking Harry in the ribs. Harry cried out in pain through his clenched jaws, unable to hold back. Snape grasped him firmly by his tattered shirt as Rookwood clenched his fingers through his hair, throwing his head hard against the wall behind him. Stars danced before Harry's eyes as the Death Eater repeated this, finally relenting a few moments later as he took hold of his jaw, wrenching it open forcefully.

Snape seized the opportunity and poured a large mouthful of the potion into Harry's mouth. Snape quickly blocked off his mouth and nose, making it impossible for him to breathe as Rookwood slammed his head against the wall again. His mind cloudy, Harry automatically swallowed the potion, which immediately began taking effect. Harry barely felt it as they let him go, Snape tying up the gag before pushing him back to the ground.

"What's got you so worried?" Rookwood asked Snape, the two men watching as Harry quickly fell unconscious again.

Snape said nothing for a moment, but realised he would need to explain why he had taken so long. "I don't think he's well," he said truthfully, turning on the spot to leave.

Rookwood scoffed as Snape left. "No shit."

Snape ignored his words as he left the room, passing the second Death Eater that was guarding the entrance to the room. He swiftly ascended the spiral staircase, wanting to make a quick exit before he was stopped. He reached the ground floor and pushed the heavy oak doors open. Stepping outside he made his way through the over grown grounds of the Riddle Mansion, looking for a place that he could hide. Finding a spot amidst a large and untamed bush, he concealed himself and waited, hoping to Merlin that the Aurors would come that night.

Rain fell gently, the clouds above the Aurors threatening a heavier downpour. Tonks sighed, ignoring the pain in her knees from crouching in the dense foliage. She kept her eyes fixated in the house on the hill above her, unable to see very clearly throughout the heavy fog that the rain had brought with it. The sun was quickly setting, basking the hidden Aurors in orange light. Had she not been so focused on the task at hand Tonks would have enjoyed watching the sun set, perhaps leaning into Remus' strong embrace with a glass of chardonnay.

Tonks quickly checked her watch, noting that it was almost seven o'clock, the time when Robbins said that the wards would come down. Tonks looked back at the house, which seemed quite deserted, yet could not deny the strong reaction that the secrecy sensor had given. It had started vibrating the moment they had arrived, detecting the presence of concealment that not even Death Eaters could hide. Earlier that day they had questioned some of the people from Great Hangleton who knew the Riddle house. All had insisted that the house had been deserted for quite a number of years, adding to the unease that the Aurors felt about their mission.

She scanned the area surrounding the house and its vast grounds, trying to spot the other Aurors as she wondered how she had been allowed on this rescue mission, considering that she knew the victim personally. Kingsley had explained to her that if Harry was conscious, they would need someone he knew to keep him calm, yet this did nothing to answer her questions.

"Can you see anything, Alastor?" Kingsley said over the ear pieces that they were all wearing.

"No," Mad-Eye replied, carefully watching the house using his magical eye. "Still deserted."

Tonks frowned as she checked her watch again, seeing that it had just passed seven o'clock. She looked down at her hands, her heart falling as her hope faded. She knew that Robbins' confession could possibly be fake, but there was no denying the messages that Harry had sent, so she had not allowed herself to consider that it was a dead lead. She shook her head gently, trying to come to terms with this possibility as Mad-Eye spoke again.

"I see something."

Tonks looked up sharply, her heart soaring with anticipation as she looked through the bushes at the house. It seemed unchanged and she was about to question Mad-Eye's words when Quentin spoke through the ear pieces.

"He's right," he began. "The secrecy sensor stopped vibrating, the wards must be down."

"What can you see, Mad-Eye?" Tonks asked as she readjusted herself onto her knees, peering at the house inquisitively. "Can you see him?"

There was no answer for a moment. "Looks like three people on the second floor," he replied gruffly. "I can't tell who they are. I need to get closer."

There was silence for a few minutes, and Tonks knew that Mad-Eye was moving into a closer spot. She waited apprehensively, her heart pounding with anticipation and nerves. She looked at the top floor of the house, trying to see what Mad-Eye could, but was unable to see inside the boarded up windows.

"I can see Potter," Mad-Eye said quietly. The Aurors waited nervously, knowing that he would continue when he was ready. "He's on the top floor, being guarded by two Death Eaters."

"Where are the Death Eaters, in relation to Potter?" Quentin asked.

"One is outside, the other inside the room with him."

"How does he look?" Hadden asked.

"I can't tell," Mad-Eye replied, working to keep the frustration from his voice. "He's on the ground. I don't think he is conscious."

There was silence as each of the Aurors processed this news. Tonks breathed a slow sigh of relief, knowing that the rescue would be much easier if he was unconscious, and as a bonus Harry wouldn't remember a thing.

"It's all clear," Mad-Eye said. "You can start."

Immediately, Tonks could feel her heart quicken, could feel the adrenaline that began pulsing through her veins at these words. Under the careful eyes of Mad-Eye she stood up slightly, moving out from behind the bush. She looked around for a few moments, planning her route as she saw another Auror in the corner of her eye, doing the same.

Her wand held ready by her side, Tonks began moving through the overgrown grounds as she approached the house. She could see the back door, and paused behind a large tree, watching as Kingsley arrived at the door before continuing. She reached the door just as Kingsley muttered "Alohamora."

The lock clicked open and Tonks looked at Kingsley, raising her eyebrow as the other Aurors arrived. They knew that the door had opened too easily, but did not have the time to question it. Kingsley pushed the door open and the five of them entered.

Her wand by her side Tonks approached the back door, stopping momentarily to take cover behind a large tree as she saw Andrea Hadden just ahead of her.

Keeping low they hurried through the large living room, not noticing the dust that lay thick, even on the walls. The dying sunlight streamed through the boarded up windows, adding to the eerie tone that the house already gave. The Aurors slowly approached the spiral staircase and began climbing it, still slinking low to the ground.

"Keep going," Mad-Eye's voice whispered in their ears. "Everything is fine."

Tonks was surprised that the other Aurors could not hear her heart beat, certain that it was considerably louder than normal. The breathed in deeply to calm her nerves as they slowed to a stop as Mad-Eye instructed them to do.

"You're just out of sight," Mad-Eye said. Tonks remained still as she watched Kingsley silently conversing the Jeremiah Quentin on the steps above her. Tonks could just understand what they were saying to each other, their hands skilfully speaking for them as Tonks and the other Aurors waited patiently.

Quentin turned to them and drew his thumb across his throat, indicating that they should do nothing. Nodding her head, Tonks watched them with admiration as Kingsley and Quentin jumped up, revealing themselves to the Death Eater guarding the door to where Harry was. Kingsley flicked his wand at the Death Eater, stunning him wordlessly as Quentin leapt forward and caught him under his arms. The two Aurors on the steps below Tonks stood up and rushed forward, taking the limp body between them.

They nodded at Kingsley as they carried the Death Eater down the stairs as quickly as they could. Tonks turned her head and watched them, suppressing a gasp of horror as the Death Eater's hood fell away, revealing the face of Draco Malfoy. Tonks forced herself to concentrate, standing up cautiously as the others did the same.

"They're out," Mad-Eye said, referring to Quentin and the other Auror. "Kingsley, you going to have to ambush the Death Eater inside, when he's not looking."

"Okay," Kingsley said, raising his wand to the door as he ushered Tonks to stand against the wall, keeping her out of the way danger. "Tell me when, Mad-Eye."

There was all quiet for a few moments, the seconds dragging on forever as Tonks stood against the wall, knowing that Harry was inside that room, mere feet away from her. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat as Kingsley suddenly swore underneath his breath.

"What is it?" Mad-Eye asked, his voice sounding almost impatient.

"The door is cursed," Kingsley whispered, half amazed that his voice could be heard so clearly by the others. "I'll give us all away by removing the curse."

Tonks' heart plummeted, but kept her focus. She knew Kingsley was right. He would have to take the curse off the door first, which would alert the Death Eater inside to their presence, and Merlin knows what he could do to Harry in that split second.

"What should I do, Mad-Eye?" Kingsley said, his voice sounding surprisingly calm.

"You have to get him, to come out," Mad-Eye said after a moment hesitation. "Get him to open it."

"How," Kingsley muttered, looking to the ground as he crouched down. Tonks could practically see the wheels turning inside Kingsley's head, but could not help but remember the words her mother would always say to her when she had a problem. "Dora, the worst problems usually have the simplest answers."

"Knock," Tonks whispered, hardly believing that she had said it. "Just knock on the door."

Kingsley's head snapped up, the whites of his wide eyes standing out brightly against his dark skin. He stared at her incredulously for a moment, doubt and ridicule racing through his mind. He almost reprimanded her for not taking this seriously, before realisation rushed through him.

"That could actually work."

"Are you kidding?" Quentin asked.

"No," Kingsley replied decisively. "Mad-Eye, can you see who it is?"

Mad-Eye said nothing for a few moments as he looked through the mask that the Death Eater wore. "It's Augustus Rookwood."

"Okay," Kingsley replied. "Tell me when he comes to the door."

"Well do it then," Mad-Eye replied gruffly.

Kingsley stood up as Quentin backed away to the wall, standing next to Tonks. Kingsley raised his fist to the door, ready to knock as he pointed his wand to his throat. He knocked on the door loudly, his voice sounding considerably different when he spoke.

"Rookwood," he began. "Open the door."

Kingsley crouched back down on the ground, his wand pointed at the door.

"He's hesitating," Mad-Eye said, and then after a moment. "He's coming now."

Tonks clenched her teeth together, a terrible habit she had gotten into when nervous or anticipated. The door opened slowly, and Kingsley acted in the split second that Rookwood wasn't watching properly, jumping up and stunning him, not bothering to keep their presence hidden.

Tonks' heart soared as she heard the Death Eater hit the ground with a large thud. She entered the dark room just as Quentin and Kingsley were dragging the lifeless body off to the side. She lit her wand and it quickly illuminated the room. She gasped softly as she saw Harry.

She stood motionless for a moment, appalled at his condition. She could see his hands tied tightly behind his back, which was caked heavily with dried blood. His shirt lay in tatters around his chest, revealing the many wounds on his back and arms. Pushing this all aside, Tonks approached him gently and knelt down, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Harry?" she said quietly, not wanting to frighten him if he suddenly woke up. "Harry, it's Tonks. Can you hear me?"

She felt the presence of Quentin by her side as she gently rolled Harry over to his back. Quentin swore under his breath as she did so, crouching down to remove the gag from Harry's mouth.

"Can he be moved?" Quentin asked as he flicked his wand at the rope around Harry's wrists, watching as they untied themselves and fell slack against his hands.

"We don't have a choice," Kingsley muttered as he peered at the boarded up window, his wand still pointed at Rookwood who lay on the ground, unconscious and tightly bound. Tonks nodded as she pressed her hand against his neck, feeling his thready pulse. "How is he?" Kingsley asked.

"He's unconscious," Tonks began as she leant her head down to his wounded chest, listening to the depth of his breathing. "Slow pulse, his breathing is pretty shallow."

"He's got some pretty bad wounds, but they're not bleeding," Quentin added. Tonks looked down at Harry's face, feeling the dried blood at the back of his head.

"Got a nasty head wound," she said as she looked closer. She suddenly noticed how cold he felt, the blue colour of his lips, the goose bumps that had erupted on his skin. She looked down at him concerned, still not completely believing the state that he was in.

"Get out of there!" Mad Eye's voice abruptly pulled her from her thoughts. "There's Death Eaters in the grounds."

Kingsley swore, not bothering to hide it under his breath. "Rookwood must have pressed the Dark Mark somehow."

"Who cares?" Quentin said as he immediately pulled Harry into his arms, standing up slowly. "We have to get out of here."

Immediately Kingsley removed his wand from Rookwood and pointed it at one of the boarded up windows, blasting the wooden boards clean away.

"Mad-Eye, you gotta help us out," he said.

"Jump," Mad-Eye said simply. "Jump from the window, I've got you covered."

Kingsley nodded and turned to Tonks. "You go first, create a diversion and then cover Quentin."

Tonks nodded and approached the window, and stuck her head out the large window, looking out into the grounds. Seeing no Death Eaters, she hoisted herself up onto the window sill and didn't hesitate before jumping.

Weightlessness engulfed her, and the ground seemed to loom up before her far too quickly before Mad-Eye stopped her in midair, about three feet from the ground. He released her from the charm and she fell to the ground in a heap, and pulled herself up, crouching on the ground against the house as she felt around in her pockets. She pulled out a small flat disc just as she noticed a masked Death Eater heading their way. Concealing herself somewhat behind a bush she threw the disc as hard as she could, and watched through the bush as it propelled itself around to the other side of the house. There was a large explosion that seemed to rattle the boarded windows as she activated it, and the Death Eater immediately turned and ran towards it.

She looked up at the window as Quentin also jumped out, holding Harry awkwardly in his arms. He landed on the ground much more gracefully, and they both quickly moved out of the way as Kingsley jumped, landing in between them.

"Is he okay?" Kingsley asked quickly, knowing they had little time.

"No," Quentin replied, adjusting Harry in his arms. "Let's go."

"Cover for us Tonks," Kingsley said turning to her. "Then follow."

She nodded as they two of them took off running, Kingsley guarding them as Quentin could not. She remained where she was for a few moments before she too, took off running under Mad-Eyes careful instructions. Suddenly lightning pierced through the sky which had quickly turned black. A bolt of bright green hit the ground ahead of her, and knowing exactly what is was Tonks threw herself behind the nearest tree. Collecting herself she began running again, trying her best to stay under the cover of the overgrown garden.

She could hear yelling from behind her as more killing curses were sent her way, but she ignored it all and kept running as she saw Quentin and Kingsley entering the cover of the thick forest that surrounded the grounds. She soon reached the forest and heard two loud cracks as the others apparated away. Suddenly she was hit with a painful curse and she fell to the ground with a loud cry. She rolled over onto her back, her wand held in front of her as she pulled herself to her feet and began running again. A rustling in the bushes made her stop running, and she pointed her wand at it. The figure moved again, confirming her suspicions that it was human.

"Come out where I can see you," Tonks demanded, knowing that she could not simply stun them and run.

The figure moved towards her, and tightened the grip on her wand as she saw that it was a Death Eater. They slowly waved their hand in front of their mask, making it melt away and pulled back their hood. Tonk's jaw dropped open as she saw the face of Severus Snape. Getting over her shock in an instant, she didn't hesitate to draw her wand back. She opened her mouth ready to stun him, but he was faster.

"Expelliarmus!" Snape cried as Tonks felt her wand being pulled from her tight grip before she could defend herself. He dropped it to the ground and it lay there taunting her; her only chance of escape lying at the foot of Dumbledore's murderer.

"Don't be an idiot," he continued nastily. "You wouldn't last a minute against me."

Tonks replied with a slew of things that she would never say in front of her mother, despite knowing that she should have begun running moments ago. Snape seemed to shake his head as he flicked his wand at her, an invisible force throwing her against the nearest tree, pinning her there.

"Would you _like_ me to take you to the Dark Lord?" Snape asked as he approached her, peering into her face. "If you do, by all means, continue."

"Fine!" Tonks snapped. "Take me to him, I've done my job."

"What job is that?"

Tonks scoffed at him. "Surely even you heard the commotion. Harry's free."

Snape stared at her, his face twisted into a strange expression. He continued staring at her for a few more moments before speaking; his words confused Tonks beyond belief.

"Tell St Mungos', that he has been given heavy doses of Drognize Draught. He should be able to sleep it off, but if there are problems give him Noigerts to counter any side effects."

"What?" Tonks replied incredulously as Snape stepped back from her, releasing her from the curse.

"Go," he ordered her as he began walking away.

She remained where she was, stunned at what he had said.

"Are you dim?" he roared when he turned around and found her still there. "Go!"

Tonks raced forward and picked up her wand from the ground. She took off running as soon as Snape was out of sight. Her head was full with confusion as she reached the apparition point and she was almost too confused to think straight when apparating. Forcing herself to concentrate, she apparated to the secure place in St Mungos where they had been told to meet up. Immediately she was pounced upon by Kingsley.

"What took you so long?" he said, concern written across his face. "What happened?"

"I couldn't find the apparition point," she said, not knowing why she had lied. She looked past him to where Harry was being lay down on a bed in the Emergency Department, Healers already swarming around his unconscious form.

Kingsley nodded slowly, not seeing past her lie. "Good work today, Tonks," he said, patting her on the back slightly. "Now go home and get some sleep."

Tonks said nothing at this, instead continued watching as Healers buzzed around Harry on the bed until one of them closed the curtain, blocking the view for everyone. She barely noticed as Kingsley left, and didn't even wonder what had happened to Quentin. The full impact of what had happen suddenly hit her, and she was overwhelmed with a mixture of emotion. Elation that Harry was finally safe, and horror at what he had been through.

She shook her head to herself, knowing that she should probably go to Grimmauld Place. She wondered briefly whether or not Sirius knew yet, but cleared this all from her head as she saw a Healer exit the cubicle that Harry was in. There was one more thing she had to do before she could relax. As they headed her way she grabbed the man's arm as he walked past.

"There is something you should know," she said.


	45. Chapter 45

Sirius breathed out a slow sigh and rested his head in his hands, feeling as though he were going to be sick. The crowded waiting room buzzed around him loudly as he waited , desperate for any news about Harry. He only knew very little, having been suddenly pulled out of Ginny's birthday celebrations by the large brown owl that had arrived at Grimmauld Place, telling him to go straight to St Mungos. That had been almost two hours ago.

His stomach twisting itself in tight knots, Sirius sat up, ignoring the curious stares and glances that had been coming his way for the last two hours. He knew he was easily recognisable due to the heavy publicity he had been given over the past few years, even more in the past week.

Absentmindedly he looked at his watch, dimly noting that it had just passed ten o'clock as a careful voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Mr Black?"

"Yes," Sirius said imperatively, standing up quickly.

"I'm Healer Maguire," the man said, extending his hand politely.

Sirius took his hand and shook it impatiently as he spoke, making sure to keep his voice low. "It's Harry isn't it, he's here?"

The Healer seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes darting around the waiting room and seeing the many onlookers. "Follow me, please," he said as he stepped out of the waiting room. Sirius wordlessly followed the Healer into a long corridor, ignoring the looks they both received from other Healers and patients that they passed. They passed through as large set of doors and entered into the rarely used Emergency Department. Unable to stand the silence any longer, Sirius spoke quickly, his need for information overwhelming him.

"So is he here?" he said in a rush.

Healer Maguire nodded silently. "Aurors brought him here about two and a half hours ago."

"And you're certain that it's him?" Sirius said without missing a beat. "It's definitely him?"

"We've been through standard procedures, it's definitely him."

"Well," Sirius began, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "How is he?"

Slowing down to a stop, Maguire closed his eyes momentarily as though he were in pain, shoving his hands into the pockets of his lime-green coat. "He's not in good shape," he replied simply, as though trying to ease Sirius into the full impact.

"Not in good shape," Sirius repeated, his face falling. "What exactly does that mean?"

"He's very badly injured," Maguire began. "There's been significant blood loss recently, and many of his wounds are not responding to treatment."

"They're not healing?" Sirius asked in dismay and confusion.

"No," Maguire answered, shaking his head slightly. "We're not sure what we're going to do, but for now we're just applying some dressings to prevent infection."

Sirius said nothing more, only nodding to indicate that he had heard. He stared at the ground for a long moment, barely taking notice as people passed the two of them in the hall, each of them wrapped up in their own problems.

"Harry has some broken ribs," Maguire said after a few moments. "And some extensive bruising, but for now we're just going to leave them be. We've detected pneumonia in both lungs and we've already begun treating him, but our main priority now is to-"

"Look, I'm sorry," Sirius said cutting him off, unable to bear not being with Harry any longer. "I need to be with him, he's probably freaking out."

"That's what I was saying, Mr Black," Maguire continued gently. "Harry is not conscious, we don't think he has been for a while."

"What?" Sirius said in dismay, his voice rising. "He's not awake?"

"No, he's not," Maguire replied, shaking his head. "I doubt he's even aware of what's going on."

Sirius clenched his hands in his hair and turned away, moving to the other side of the hallway as he tried to rationalize his thoughts. Not bothering to hide it, he swore under his breath, trying to string enough words together to form a coherent sentence.

"Why?" he said as he slowly turned back to Maguire, who had not moved. "Why isn't he awake?"

"We've run some blood tests, and we're fairly certain that he has been given some kind of sleeping potion."

"Well," Sirius began, his distress evident. "Can't you wake him up?"

"Not until we confirm what is causing the unconsciousness," Maguire answered patiently. "Besides, it will be much easier on Harry if he can stay unconscious for a little while. If he were awake he'd be in a lot of pain, and his body needs to rest as much as possible."

Sirius' heart seemed to clench inside his chest at these words, but he nodded in understanding. "I need to see him," he repeated with more urgency.

Maguire nodded and placed his hand on the back of Sirius' shoulder, ushering him forward. The quickly rounded a corner and entered into the noisy emergency department. Sirius immediately saw the small group of staff that seemed to be standing near one door in particular, and he immediately knew that must be where Harry was.

"You'll need to empty your pockets and surrender your wand to the Auror waiting outside," Maguire murmured to him as they approached the door. Apprehension weighed in Sirius' chest as they came nearer, the staff members stepping back to allow them through.

Sirius stared blankly at the door as he handed over his wand and his wallet to the Auror, almost missing the bright flash that filled the room. Sirius looked up in shock and horror at the photographer who had managed to sneak in, watching as someone quickly wrestled the camera from him.

"Someone, get him out of here!" a Healer yelled in the background as more staff converged on the man, practically dragging him back down the corridor through which he came.

"How do they know?" Sirius said in anger, turning around to face Maguire.

"News travels fast," he replied with a grimace. "Especially in a hospital."

Sirius nodded stiffly and looked at the ground, his heart pounding in his throat. He dimly noted that the Auror had stepped away from them, giving them a little more privacy. Sirius raised his head and drew in a shuddering breath, the full impact of the last few hours suddenly hitting him. Harry was safe at last, lying only a few mere feet away from him.

"Do you need a minute?" Maguire asked kindly, knowing that were their positions swapped, he personally would want a minute to himself.

Sirius seemed to bite the inside of his lip, uncertainty plaguing him. "He's not in pain?" he clarified.

"No," Maguire answered immediately. "Even when he wakes up, we should be able to help with that."

Sirius breathed in deeply, knowing that he was not going to like what he saw. "Okay," he said quietly.

Maguire withdrew his wand and briefly tapped Sirius on the elbow. His whole body momentarily felt as though it were made from ice, causing Sirius to shiver in shock. "Sterilization spell," Maguire explained before tapping the door with his wand. The door clicked open loudly, announcing their presence to those inside, and Sirius opened it straight away, not allowing himself a moment to hesitate.

His hands trembling with nerves Sirius slowly stepped inside, immediately spotting Harry, who lay immobile on the bed in the centre of the room. Swallowing, Sirius forced his feet to move, and he slowly made his way to the right hand side of the bed, trying to give himself time to comprehend what he was seeing.

Sirius stared at Harry's face, his heart feeling as though it had frozen inside of his chest. A clear, plastic mask covered Harry's mouth and nose, ensuring that he received sufficient oxygen, but Sirius looked straight past this, seeing only the black and purple bruises that covered the majority of his face, and the deep cut that ran along his right cheek, the skin held together using thin strips of medical tape.

He tore his eyes from Harry's face and looked at the rest of him, immediately wishing that he hadn't. He felt his stomach suddenly turn as he saw the deep wounds that ran along Harry's chest and stomach, dried blood smeared generously across his torso. Sirius winced as he saw the colourful array of angry bruises along his chest and stomach, most of which seemed to be dark green and purple.

A rustling from the corner caught Sirius' attention and he looked over, watching as a Healer packaged Harry's blood stained clothing into an air tight bag, and he realised for the first time that he wore only a loose pair of hospital pants. Now that Sirius was concentrating, he could suddenly smell the strong aroma of Essence of Murtlap, and could easily hear Harry's shallow and laboured breathing.

Sirius looked back down at Harry and carefully reached his hand toward his face. He gently brushed the hair out Harry's face, his hand lingering there for a moment as though he were expecting some kind of reaction. His face set, Sirius gently took Harry's left hand in his and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. Doing his best not to think about the raw skin around Harry's wrist he rubbed the back of his hand, as though he were trying to soothe the split and bruised knuckles.

He could hear the Healers murmuring in the background and Sirius listened to them quietly, desperate for any information regarding Harry.

"You were right," one of the Healers began, passing a piece of parchment to Healer Maguire. "A strong dose of Drognize Draught."

Maguire swore under his breath, practically causing Sirius' heart to skip a beat. "I can't tell how much they've given him," he said more to himself than anyone else.

"How should we proceed?"

Maguire said nothing for a moment, looking from the parchment to the chart he held in his other hand. "Give him 60 milligrams of Noigerts intravenously, and increase the oxygen flow."

Sirius looked up at Maguire as he stood beside Harry's bed, scribbling something on the chart he was holding. He glanced at up at a small screen on the wall, scribbling down his observations. The other Healer re-entered the room after a few minutes, holding a syringe in her hand as she picked up the long thin tube that led to Harry's hand, and for the first time Sirius noticed the needle in the back of his hand. The door opened again and Sirius looked around, his jaw dropping when he saw who it was.

Sirius immediately recognised Madam Pomfrey as she entered the room, holding an ugly peach blanket in her arms. Sirius stood up gently, and she smiled at him grimly as she gently spread the blanket over Harry's lower half, casting a warming charm on it.

"Uh," Maguire said, looking up from his chart and realising that the two people knew each other. "Madam Pomfrey has kindly come in from Hogwarts for us. We thought it may be easier for Harry to have a familiar face treating him."

Sirius nodded as he sat back down on the edge of the bed, his heart almost relaxing as he realised how much the Healers actually cared about Harry's well being. He gently ran his hand along the back of Harry's cold forearm, trying to warm it up as he suddenly remembered something.

In his mind's eye, he could see the bright flash of green that appeared before the Death Eaters threw Harry to the ground, remembering the photograph as though he had only just seen it. His heart racing again, Sirius slowly turned Harry's arm over in his hands, looking at the large tattoo branded onto his fore arm. Disgust for what they had done seemed to rise in his throat as he ran his fingers of the mark, confirming that it was real.

Sirius turned Harry's arm back over, gripping his hand firmly as his other rubbed the back of his arm soothingly. He watched Harry's face, as though waiting for some indication that things would be okay, needing the reassurance for himself more than Harry.

"Tell me the rumours are true." Scrimgeour said without a greeting.

Slowly walking into the office, Proctor smiled gently as he nodded his head in confirmation. He slumped himself into a seat opposite the desk as Scrimgeour muttered to himself in awe.

"We received a tip from a reliable source," Proctor began before being cut off.

"I don't care, right now," Scrimgeour said. "I'll read your report. How is he?"

Proctor grimaced and leaned forward, resting his weight on his elbows as he answered the question he had been most dreading. "He's not in good shape," he answered honestly. "He's unconscious, multiple lacerations, starvation, severe bruising."

"So in short," Scrimgeour replied. "They've been torturing him?"

Proctor said nothing for a moment, feeling as though saying it out loud would make it true. "It appears that way."

Scrimgeour breathed out slowly as he rested his elbows on his desk, burying his head in his hands as dilemmas and plans raced through his head. He looked up after a few moments and stared intently at the wall behind Proctor before getting up. Standing before the bookcase on the far wall, his eyes scanning over the various covers before choosing one and going back to the desk.

"I find, in situations like this," he began as he opened the book. "There is only one way to celebrate in a suitable fashion."

He removed a small bottle of whiskey and two small glasses that were concealed in the hollowed out pages of the book, placing them on his desk with a grim smile. Realising the late hour, and just how tired he was Proctor accepted the glass that was offered, smiling at the great success of the past few days. The two men relaxed back into their respective chairs, settling into a comfortable and thoughtful silence.

"Obviously," Proctor said after a few moments. "We need to speak with him as soon as possible."

Scrimgeour frowned into his whiskey glass, knowing that it was vital but was probably not welcome. "I thought he was unconscious?" he said after second thought.

"He is," Proctor explained, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. "But Healer Maguire says he should be awake by tomorrow morning, noon at the absolute latest."

"Make sure you give him time for things to sink in," Scrimgeour said. "If you do it too soon, you won't get a thing out of him."

Proctor nodded in acknowledgement. "Maguire said he had just been moved to another room, so that should give us some privacy."

"By the way," Scrimgeour said, his face alight with curiosity. "Is it true you caught one of them?"

"Yes. Draco Malfoy was apprehended during the rescue, he was guarding one of the doors."

"He can't be much older than Potter."

"Two months older, actually. They're classmates."

"Merlin almighty," Scrimgeour cursed.

"He's claiming that he was coerced into helping the Death Eaters, and we don't have enough evidence to dispute that."

Scrimgeour seemed to consider this for a moment, realising that it was correct. "See if Potter knows anything that will help when you talk to him. I would accompany you, but if I was there I don't think you'd get anything at all out of him. It's not exactly a secret that he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Proctor said. "He hates who you are, your position. Fudge worked hard to discredit him and take advantage of his situation. It's only natural that he would expect you to do the same".

"It's more than that," Scrimgeour said softly. "I made some decisions this year that he doesn't agree with, and when I asked for his help in reassuring the public that things were under control, he got quite defensive."

"Potter's new room has a one way window," Proctor said cautiously. "You can see out, but not in. Do you want me to pull a few strings so that it gets altered? You could watch the interview from outside."

Scrimgeour considered this for a moment, knowing that it was bending the rules quite a lot. "There's just something about this boy. I can't figure him out," he said as though trying to justify himself. "If I can see him before I talk to him it might help me to figure out how to gain his trust."

"I'll see what can be arranged," Proctor said as he stood up. Scrimgeour nodded in thanks as Proctor began to leave, suddenly stopping him in the doorway.

"Edward?"

Proctor stopped and turned around, curiously taking note that Scrimgeour had used his first name. "Yes?"

Scrimgeour paused. "It was a mistake, on my part, to promote Cory to Head of Department, over yourself. I'm going to make sure that you get full credit for Potters safe return."

Proctor said nothing for a moment, letting the words he had desired to hear sink in. "Thank you, Minister," he replied, sounding cold and professional. He quickly turned around again and left, heading for St Mungos.

Sirius' finger tips burned as he dipped the cloth into the bowl of steaming liquid, the aroma of Essence of Murtlap and boiled water filling his nostrils. Wringing out the water, he sat on the edge of Harry's bed and brought the cloth to his face, thankful that the head of the bed was raised up. He gently rubbed at the dried blood and dirt that seemed to be caked on, satisfaction flowing as it came off quickly, leaving only an array of red smudges.

He continued his work, occasionally dipping the cloth back into the hot liquid. Magic would have been much quicker and more effective, but the desire to do it by hand had overwhelmed him, every stroke making Sirius feel as though he were beginning to make it up to Harry.

He avoided the large cut on Harry's cheek, not wanting to aggravate it and cause Harry further pain. Kicking himself mentally, he remembered that Harry was unconscious, unaware of the world and unable to feel a single thing. Sirius heard the door open and he looked up, seeing Madam Pomfrey enter.

"How's he doing?" she asked kindly.

"You tell me," he said solemnly as he gently moved the long thin tube that ran below Harry's nose, providing him with a steady flow of oxygen. He wiped away the blood underneath it before putting it back, making sure either end of the tube was securely hooked behind Harry's ears.

"He's already looking better," Madam Pomfrey observed, looking Harry over closely.

"He is?" Sirius said hopefully, tearing his eyes away from Harry's face.

"Yes," she said quietly, more to Harry than to Sirius.

Sirius placed the cloth into the bowl as he cautiously stood up, trying to avoid tangling himself in the long thin tubes that led to the back of Harry's hand and the inside of his wrist. Sitting down on the chair closest to the bed he firmly gripped Harry's hand, trying to avoid touching the needles as he waited for Madam Pomfrey to elaborate.

"You see," she began softly. "The blue colour in his lips are gone, and his breathing is not so laboured anymore."

Sirius raised himself in his chair, seeing the changes that he had not been trained to notice.

"He's not so clammy anymore," she said as he felt Harry's cheek before looking up at one of the screens that showed various observations. "His pulse is also steadier."

Sirius nodded in understanding and looked back at Harry, thankful that someone had covered his left forearm with a bandage. He knew for all purposes the tattoo meant nothing, but the bandage spared Harry from having to look at it when he awoke.

"What time is it?" Sirius asked.

Pomfrey looked at her watch as she sat down into a chair. "It just passed 4 o'clock."

Sirius said nothing, suddenly realising how tired he was. He rubbed the skin under his sore eyes in attempt to relieve them as he breathed in deeply, ignoring his exhaustion. Noticing how tired Sirius had become, Pomfrey spoke.

"Sirius, Why don't you go home and get some rest? I'm sure Professor Lupin wouldn't mind staying with Harry for a few hours."

"No," Sirius said firmly, surprising himself with how blunt he sounded. "I want to be with him, when he wakes up."

Pomfrey nodded, knowing better than to push the subject. Clearing his throat slightly, Sirius spoke again, asking the question he had been pondering.

"What are these," he began, indicating to the bags of colourful liquid that the needles were attached to. "What are the potions you're giving him?"

Pomfrey raised her eye brows, wondering why no one had explained Harry's treatment before this. She summoned the chart from the end of Harry's bed and opened it, her eyes scanning as she looked for what she needed.

"He's already had a strong dose of some Blood Replenisher, and now he's getting a strengthening solution and some normal saline, which should get him rehydrated."

"Good," Sirius muttered.

They fell silent, Madam Pomfrey flicking through Harry's chart as Sirius remained motionless, still maintaining his firm grip on Harry's limp hand. He looked at Harry's face blankly, guilt coursing through his veins as he thought of all the things he had done wrong, all the ways he should have protected Harry more.

"Do you know if Hogwarts will re-open?" Sirius blurted out, knowing that Madam Pomfrey may have some idea.

A smile graced her face as she answered. "It's looking up," she said. "Minerva has the School Governors wrapped around her wand."

"Good," Sirius said, knowing that Harry would be safest there, if he could convince him to go back. "It's what Albus would have wanted."

"Yes," Madam Pomfry agreed. "It is. Not many are convinced that everyone will return, though."

"The students you mean?"

"Yes," she answered. "Understandable of course, people want their children close. Especially after what happened to the most protected teenager in the country."

Sirius said nothing, just looked back at Harry still remained motionless, oblivious to their conversation.

"How have you been holding up?" Pomfrey asked.

Sirius grimaced at the question, answering only to be polite. "As well as I could."

"Of course," Pomfrey replied sympathetically.

Sirius became silent, not having the mental strength or will power to elaborate on his answer. After a few minutes he felt his eyes lids drooping against his will, and he unwillingly succumbed to his exhaustion, resting his head on the bed beside Harry's thigh, still maintaining his firm grip on Harry's hand. He wasn't sure how long he dozed, only knowing that he seemed to rouse himself every little while, checking on Harry before quickly falling back asleep.

It seemed to take no time at all for Sirius to full wake up, shame and guilt coursing through his body as he fully realised that he had been sleeping. He looked back up at Harry, whose head seemed to have turned towards him, but otherwise had not moved an inch. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he released Harry's hand and stood up from his chair, taking note of Madam Pomfrey's absence.

He slowly crossed the private room that Harry had received and opened the door. He stepped outside slightly and looked at the clock on the far wall, ignoring the Auror who was standing guard over the door. He saw that it was seven thirty and went back inside, stretching his arms slightly as he crossed the room. Noticing two small duffle bags on the ground, Sirius picked them up curiously. He took off the note that was pinned to the front of one of the bags, then smiled as he noticed Remus' neat handwriting.

Sirius,

I have packed some clothing for both you and Harry. Please owl us if anything changes.

Remus.

Sirius smiled grimly, thankful that Remus had been level-headed enough to worry about what he had not. He put the note aside and opened the first bag, his heart leaping as he saw a brown paper bag that could only contain one thing. His hunger suddenly seemed to jump out at him as he pulled the sandwich from the bag, and he wasted no time in taking a bite as he pushed the two bags under the bed.

He settled himself back into the chair and reached out his hand for Harry's, enclosing the boy's bruised hand in his own. Sirius chewed gratefully as he noticed that Harry now wore an old pair of his own pajamas, realising that the Healers must have magically redressed him while they both slept. He breathed a sigh of relief that he no longer had to look at the bandages that encased Harry's torso, a stark reminder of his great injuries.

Sirius ate silently and sat back in the chair, closing his still tired eyes. He listened to Harry's steady breathing as he settled into the chair, his tense shoulders relaxing again. He quickly finished the sandwich and jumped a mile as he felt Harry's hand twitch beneath his.

Sirius opened his eyes and sat forward, his hope fading as he saw that Harry still appeared to be sleeping. He watched Harry intently for a few moments, his heart fluttering as he felt Harry's hand weakly moving. Remaining quiet, Sirius gently ran his thumb back and forth across Harry's palm, praying to Merlin that he was waking up.

Harry breathed in slowly for a few minutes, sensing himself awakening. He remained still, having neither the desire or the energy to make himself sit up, preferring not to aggravate the injuries that were currently not bothering him. Before he could let himself think about it too much he cracked his eyes open, feeling the sharp sting as they were exposed to the air. He could make out nothing through the deep blur so he clenched them shut again, his eye lids feeling as though they were made from lead as he did so.

Suddenly sensing that he was not alone, his heart began to pound erratically. He could feel his hand being held tightly and he instinctively wanted to move it away, his hand twitching slightly as he tried to find the will power to do so. His breath caught in his throat as he felt a strange sensation on his palm and before he could think, his arm weakly pulled itself from the firm grip, coming to rest on his stomach. Pain wracked through his body at the movement, and Harry felt strangely aware of every muscle in his back as he limply rolled over to his left side.

His head spinning, Harry remained incredibly still as he felt someone moving behind him, speaking to him. Harry ignored the voice, trying to focus on breathing in and out through the pain that seemed t have grown since he was last conscious. A hand was placed on his shoulder and Harry flinched openly, clenching his eyes tightly as he waited for the expected kick in the stomach.

"Harry?" came a voice that he dimly recognised. "Can you hear me?"

"Merlin," Harry thought to himself slowly as his head began to pound. He tried to think of the last thing he remembered, automatically picturing Snape as he forced potion down his throat, remembering Rookwood throwing his head against the wall. Harry swallowed thickly as he pushed the two men out of his mind, wondering how long he had been unconscious this time. He could still sense the presence of another person, but could not suppress a grimace of pain as he raised his hand to his head and pressed his temple weakly, trying to suppress the pain.

The voice echoed through his head again, its urgent tone ringing in his ears as he felt the hand on his shoulder begin to gently rub his upper arm. His strength gone, Harry's arm slumped back down beside his face as he sighed with the welcome relief the movement brought him. Instinctively he stayed still, letting his mind relax as he simply rested, not having the strength or the will power to do anything else. Lost in his daze, he didn't hear the sound of a door opening, or the footsteps that echoed through the room.

"Harry?" someone said again. "You're safe now, it's okay," they continued imperatively.

"Sirius, I don't know how aware he is right now."

"He can hear me, I know he can."

The conversation around him had immediately caught Harry's attention and he could feel his heart beating rapidly as he waited for them to speak again, not believing what he had heard. They said nothing, and Harry forced his tired eyes open. He ignored the sharp stinging as he gently blinked, trying to make out the blur that he could see. He quickly realised that he was lying in a comfortable bed, but before he could question this, someone spoke again.

"It's okay, Harry," they said firmly. "No one's going to hurt you."

Harry groaned audibly and clenched his eyes shut, shock and confusion coursing through him as he recognised the voice. He breathed heavily for a few moments before gently rolling onto his back, opening his eyes again.

"Hi," Sirius said, his voice thick with emotion as he realised that Harry's eyes were open.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Harry felt Sirius enclose his hand in his own and he hesitated before weakly squeezing back in reply. Opening his eyes again, Harry slowly focused on Sirius, his blurry form leaning towards him in worry.

"Sirius," Harry tried to say, but all that came out was a harsh rasp that caught in his throat. He automatically raised his free hand to his mouth as he began coughing harshly. Each cough felt as though it were tearing his chest in two, and he tensed in pain, dimly noting that Sirius was helping him to sit up.

Through the coughing Harry gasped loudly, pain shooting through his body as he moved. Sitting up helped immensely, and he soon stopped coughing, his head cloudy and spinning. He could feel himself swaying forward, and blinked in shock as Sirius gripped his shoulders firmly, having not expected it. With Sirius practically holding him up Harry relaxed for a moment, trying to collect the suspicions and doubts that raced through his mind. He looked up at Sirius' face for a moment, not understanding what was going on.

"What's going on?" he asked, his words sounding slurred and raspy.

Sirius hesitated for a moment as he bit his lip, trying to find the words to explain the past few hours.

"We found you," Sirius said softly, his voice sounding deep and soothing to Harry. "Everything is fine."

Nodding half heartedly, Harry felt his strength waning and he felt himself begin to slump forward dizzily. Noticing this, Sirius pulled Harry close to his chest, allowing him to rest his head on his shoulder as the dizziness subsided. Closing his eyes in exhaustion Harry leant against Sirius completely, feeling his arms wrap around his chest tightly as he allowed his mind to wander. He could vaguely hear someone bustling around behind him, but Harry paid them no notice, dimly noting that the pain that had wracked his entire body seemed to be easing ever so slightly.

Harry opened his eyes cautiously, sure that he was going to see the blurry room that he had been confined to for the past eleven days, and felt genuinely surprised when he saw that distorted bed that he sat on, and the glowing orbs that hung in the air, illuminating the room. He turned his face into Sirius' neck, inhaling deeply and recognising the cologne that Sirius never failed to wear, realisation and understanding dawning on him slowly.

"How did you find me?" Harry asked so quietly he was surprised that Sirius heard him. He felt Sirius inhale sharply, and Harry slowly pulled himself from his tight embrace, looking up at his face which was stained with tears. Sirius immediately wiped them away, not wanting Harry to see how upset he was.

Sirius cleared his throat lightly. "I'm not sure yet," he said honestly. "I haven't spoken to anyone about it."

Harry looked down at the bed, closing his eyes gently. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Sirius reacted to this immediately. "Don't you say that," he said, almost sounding harsh as he grasped Harry's hand firmly. "Look at me."

Sirius let go of Harry's hand and brushed the hair out of his face as he looked up at him, almost unwillingly. "Don't you ever say that again, none of this was your fault," Sirius said imperatively. "Nothing."

Harry nodded slowly even though he disagreed with him. He looked back down at the bed as Sirius continued running his fingers through his hair, the moment feeling oddly comforting. Frowning, Harry noticed the needle in the back of his right hand, his frown growing as he turned his hand and noticed the one on the inside of his wrist. He looked away from them, trying to ignore them as Sirius spoke again.

"How do you feel?" Sirius asked, concerned about the amount of pain his godson was in.

Harry considered this for a moment before he answered. "Okay, I guess," he answered off handed.

The bottom seemed to crash out of his stomach momentarily, his heart leaping into his throat and racing as realisation dawned on Harry, remembering something that he had tried to make himself forget.

"Are they okay?" Harry said in a rush, his weak voice stumbling over the words. "Ron, what happened to him? And Ginny?"

"Oh," Sirius said after a moment. "They're fine," he assured Harry.

Harry stared up at him, his words caught in his throat as he tried to force them out. "Wha- what happened to them? Where are they?"

"They're fine," Sirius insisted. "Everyone is fine, they're back at Head Quarters, probably having breakfast."

"Sirius," Harry begged, grasping the front of his shirt in distress. "I have to see them, and Hermione."

Sirius hesitated before he spoke, knowing that visitors were to be kept to a minimum. "I don't think it's a good idea. Soon though, I promise."

"No," Harry insisted weakly. "I have to see them right now, please, I have to know they're okay."

"I-" Sirius began weakly before a gentle voice interrupted him.

"It's okay," the woman said. "I'll fetch them."

Sirius sighed with obvious relief and thanked the woman. Slightly shocked, Harry watched her as she left the room, knowing that he recognised her voice, but was unable to place it.

"They're coming," Sirius said, catching Harry's attention even though he had heard the woman himself. Harry nodded as he looked back down at the bed, nausea rising inside him at the thought of what might have happened to them, of what had happened to Ginny. He clenched his jaws together as his mind replayed what had happened when Ginny had been brought in, shame and inner conflict infiltrating his mind as he thought of what he had told Voldemort.

"I told him about the prophecy," Harry muttered to Sirius, knowing that he had to tell someone eventually.

"What?" Sirius said softly, the shock evident as he placed his hand under Harry's chin and lifted his head towards him. "What did you say?"

Harry looked at him for a moment, shame coursing through his body. "I told Voldemort about the prophecy." Feeling the need to justify himself, he continued. "I had no choice, he was going to kill her!"

Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head, more to himself than to Harry. Harry's chest and throat tightened as Sirius pulled him against his chest once again, resuming his firm hold around his torso.

"God, Harry," Sirius began, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't give a damn what you told him. You're alive, that's all that matters."


	46. Chapter 46

The smell hit her the moment Tonks opened the front door to Grimmauld Place. It wafted towards her as she cautiously hung up her coat on the wooden stand, beckoning her to the basement kitchen, where the smell grew stronger. As she descended the stairs, she inhaled the inviting scent of the hearty breakfast that Molly was cooking, feeling her stomach twist in pain as she remembered she had not eaten since yesterday afternoon. Yet as she emerged into the kitchen and saw the large cooked breakfast that had been laid out, and the people eating it, Tonks knew immediately it was not just breakfast that Molly was trying to create. It was a distraction.

"Tonks!" was the general outburst that came from Ron, Hermione and Ginny. "What's happened? How is he?"

Tonks sighed as she sat down at the table, realising with relief, that Remus was present.

"Quiet,' he said loudly, silencing the three immediately. "Tonks doesn't know anymore than Mad-Eye did, okay?"

Tonks smiled apologetically as she saw the disappointment and worry on their faces, wishing that she could tell them more. She sighed inwardly as Remus sat down next to her, feeling as he placed his hand on the middle of her back, rubbing gently.

"How are you doing?" he murmured to her as she began filling her plate with sausage and egg.

"Okay, actually," she replied after a moment, surprised at how calm she felt after seeing firsthand what had happened to Harry. "Just tired," she continued, placing her hand on his knee and squeezing gently as he smiled at her, satisfied with her reply. He kissed her gently on the forehead as Molly subtly placed at cup of black tea next to Tonk's plate.

"Thanks, Molly," Tonks said, gesturing to the tea and her full plate.

"You're welcome," Molly replied from the sink, her eyes filled with relief at the knowledge that Harry was safe at last.

Tonks looked down at her plate as she cut her sausage, ignoring the throbbing pain in her elbow, thankful that it alone her been her only injury. She knew they had all been extremely lucky, that rescue missions rarely went as well as theirs had. Yet she could not shake the nagging feeling that she had not done enough, that she had wronged Harry in some way. Blaming the Order for what happened was useless, but she could not shake the guilt she felt for what had happened.

"You know it's all over the papers, Tonks," Ron said quietly from across the breakfast table.

"Already?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah," Ron replied, tossing the rolled up Prophet at her. "Apparently someone tried to snap a picture of Sirius."

"What do you mean tried?" Tonks replied darkly as she unrolled the paper, reading the headline.

"Well, the camera was confiscated of course," Hermione answered with a smile.

"Hmm," Tonks muttered as she scanned the headline that read 'Harry Potter alive and safe,' which was a nice change to the ones that screamed he was dead. She quickly skimmed through the article, noting that it was merely speculation and that they had no real evidence.

"Hey Tonks," Hermione muttered across the table, the smile gone from her face. "Is it true that you got Draco Malfoy?"

Tonks looked up at her with her eyebrows raised, her mouth full of scrambled egg as she wondered how on earth she knew. She swallowed slowly, contemplating her answer for a moment.

"Wow," Hermione replied in awe, taking Tonk's silence as a yes. Tonks watched Hermione as she quietly went back to her breakfast, noticing as she looked pointedly at Ginny. Putting her knife and fork down onto her plate, Tonks sighed, placing her elbow on the table to rest her head on, Remus' warm hand on her knee under the table doing little to ease her guilt. She was thankful when she heard the front door opening upstairs, providing distraction from her thoughts. She turned around in her seat, smiling as she Mad Eye descended the stairs into the kitchen, his blue eye revolving around suspiciously.

"Do you-" Ginny began in earnest as she spotted Mad Eye, her words falling short as he held up his marred hand.

"I've just been at the hospital," Mad Eye began sternly, every person in the room staring at him intently as they waited for him to continue. "He's awake, he's asking for you three," he finished, indicating to Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

Covering her mouth, Mrs Weasley stifled her cry of joy, beaming widely as the three teenagers stood up from their breakfast eagerly, their faces alight with relief.

"How is he?" Ron asked again.

"I still don't know."

"Well, are we going to see him?" Ginny asked.

Mad Eye nodded in reply as Mrs Weasley began bustling around the three teenagers, giving instructions to get ready.

Tonks quickly wiped her mouth with her napkin, placing it beside her plate as she also stood up. "I'll come with you, Mad Eye."

"No, you won't," he said, ignoring her look of dismay. "Stay here, get some rest."

"I'm fine, really," Tonks argued. "I want to see him."

"Good luck with that," Mad Eye said with a harsh laugh. "No one other than those three are allowed at the moment."

"I suppose they're not taking chances are they?" Remus muttered from the table.

"No. They only reason they're allowed is that the healers don't want Potter to panic."

"I'll come with you, anyway," Tonks argued.

Mad Eye shook his head as Ginny re-entered the kitchen, now fully dressed as she began clearing the plates they had been eating from. "You need to stay here, organise the order for a meeting tonight."

Tonks nodded. "What's it about? Aside from the obvious, of course."

Mad Eye said nothing, his blue eye still revolving throughout the room as Remus stood up and joined them by the wall. "Potter's not in this condition because the Death Eaters were bored," he began. "They wanted information, and we need to know exactly what he's told them."

The bright light from the healers wand flashed in front of Harry's eyes, flicking back and forth in front of each one for a moment as he awkwardly sat on the hospital bed. Stars seemed to flash in his eyes for a few moments and he blinked them away wearily as the healer began speaking to him.

"I'm rather concerned about this head injury, Harry," Healer Maguire, looking down at the chart he was holding. "You had a bad fracture at the back of your head when you came in, we've fixed that but you've still got quite a lot of bruising. Do you know if you lost consciousness at all?"

"Um," he murmured, glancing towards Sirius before answering. "I don't think so, only when they drugged me." He didn't bother elaborating. Harry looked away from Sirius, not wanting to see his reaction to his words.

Maguire nodded. "Have you noticed any bleeding from the ears? Perhaps a ringing sound?"

Harry shook his head.

"What about nausea or vomiting? Did you ever feel weak down one side?"

"Er, I've been feeling nauseous."

"Constant, or intermittent?"

"Constant," he muttered in reply, wishing to Merlin that he would stop asking so many questions. He looked down at his knee, his blackened hand pulling at a loose thread in his pajamas nervously. The bed creaked a little as Maguire sat down on the edge, turning towards his patient.

"Harry, just grasp both of my hands very firmly."

Reluctantly Harry looked up, hesitantly grasping the hands Maguire held out towards him.

"Squeeze both of my hands as hard as you can, Harry."

Sighing internally, Harry weakly squeezed the hands of the healer, frustrated as his muscles felt as though they had just awoken from a long uncomfortable sleep. Maguire squeezed back firmly for a moment, before releasing his hands. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the healers attention was diverted. Maguire gently stood up and crossed the room, Harry's chart in his hand as opened the door a little, speaking in hushed tones through the small opening.

Harry pushed himself into a more comfortable position, awkwardly crossing his legs underneath the sheets as Sirius stood up from his chair. Gently placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Harry muttered. "The potions are helping a little."

Sirius nodded and peered across the room to where Healer Maguire was still speaking through the small crack in the door. "I think it's them."

"Ron and Hermione," Sirius clarified. "Ginny too."

Harry nodded solidly as he felt his heart rate increase.

"Are you sure you want visitors?" Sirius said imperatively, turning back to Harry and sitting on the bed beside him. "They don't have to come in if you don't want them to."

"I do," Harry replied firmly. "I need to see them."

Nodding understandingly, Sirius turned his gaze back to Maguire who was still standing at the door. Looking back down at the bed, Harry caught sight of his blackened hand, the two needles easily standing out. He wondered briefly how bad his face looked, suddenly aware of the long deep cut that ran along his jaw. He clenched his hand into a fist, frustration and inner turmoil coursing through his veins. Now that they were here, he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to see anyone, let alone Ron, Hermione and Ginny. The need and desire to simply be left alone felt overwhelming, yet he knew he couldn't bear the thought of not seeing proof that his friends were safe.

"You've got some visitors, Harry," Maguire said, catching his attention. Harry looked up and nodded, relaxing his clenched fist as he forced himself to remain composed. Maguire opened the door and allowed a tall Auror to step inside, his wand drawn by his side.

Utter relief flooded Harry's body as Ron cautiously stepping inside the room, casting his eyes around the room until they fell on Harry. Ron grinned awkwardly as he saw his friend, trying to hide his shock as Hermione and Ginny followed him in. Harry breathed with relief, smiling widely as he saw with his own eyes that they were all okay. The three of them stood there for a moment, no one seemed to know what to do until Ron moved forward, his smile finally meeting his eyes.

"Hey," Harry said somewhat hoarsely as Ron made to clap him on the back, stopping himself at the last minute and squeezing his shoulder instead.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione rushed forward to his bedside, slowing down before hugging him gently. Pain shot through the bandaged wounds on Harry's back, but he hid his gasp of pain as Hermione slowly released him, taking a seat in the chair beside his bed. "We've been so worried about you!"

"Yeah," Ron agreed as he stood behind Hermione's chair, leaning against it. "It's good to see you." The unspoken words were clear to everyone in the room, it was good to see Harry _alive_. They had all reached the point where it hadn't seemed possible that this day would come and Harry recognized the relief on all of their faces. He felt the same way.

Harry looked up to Ginny, standing by the foot of his bed, her face blank. He held out his right hand to her, ignoring the discomfort he felt from the needles. Hesitating for a moment, Ginny took his hand and smiled weakling, moving closer and sitting down on the bed with him.

"You okay?" Harry asked her quietly.

"I'm the one who should be asking that!" Ginny exclaimed as Sirius subtly stood up from the bed, approaching the door where Mad Eye was watching. "Merlin, Harry we didn't think we'd see you again."

Harry swallowed and looked away from her. "Yeah, well…Are you okay, Ron?"

Ron took the opportunity to roll his eyes before responding. "I agree with Ginny. You should be worrying about yourself right now. We're all fine, you on the other hand look like you've been through too many rounds with a hippogriff."

Harry laughed genuinely, strangely pleased that Ron had the guts to say what they were all thinking. "Yeah? You should see the hippogriff."

They all laughed, and for a brief moment it felt as though the past twelve days had not occurred. Harry's brief happiness quickly subsided as he remembered his left arm was no longer bandaged, that the dark mark could be easily seen by any of his friends. He quickly sat him arm in his lap, making sure that the tattoo was no longer visible as their laughter subsided.

"Well," Hermione began, her eyes filled with relief. "We're all okay. Plus, you'll be fine here, Mad Eye had the toughest time getting us in here."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, squeezing Harry's hand. "Nothing is getting through that door unless those Aurors let them through. They're like a couple of bludgers on legs."

Harry looked back at her, smiling at her description. She smiled back at him and his heart suddenly seemed to be going a hundred miles a minute, almost disbelieving that she was sitting right here with him.

"Ron," Hermione muttered, drawing Harry's attention away from Ginny. "We should go,"

Ron blinked at her in confusion for a moment, but suddenly understood as Hermione began glaring at him. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, let's go get a drink."

"We'll see you later," Hermione promised as she stood up, kissing Harry on the cheek.

Harry nodded as they said good bye, leaving Harry and Ginny relatively alone for a few moments. Harry looked back at Ginny, glad for the moment alone.

"So," he said awkwardly. "You never did answer my question."

"What was it?" she asked as she moved closer to him.

"Are you okay?" Harry repeated.

"Yeah," she replied, nodding as she felt her throat tighten. "Not a scratch."

"They didn't hurt you?" Harry pressed. "I mean, other than what I saw."

Ginny closed her eyes as she shook her head, closing her mouth tightly. They sat in silence for a moment before Ginny re-opened her eyes and looked up at him, unable to stand it a moment longer. She placed her free hand behind his head and leant forward, kissing him gently, not caring that she could taste the blood from his split lip, or that Sirius and a bunch of aurors were probably watching.

It felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted off his chest as he gently kissed her back, pulling away after a moment. He sighed as she rested her forehead against his, his heart filled with relief at this final confirmation that she was okay.

"Hey," he said soothingly, raising his head as he realised she was crying gently. "Don't start that," he continued, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that had fallen. Ginny laughed at herself softly, knowing that the tears were completely out of character. Had it been anyone other than Harry she would have been deeply embarrassed.

She looked down at his knee, hidden beneath the thick blanket before she spoke. "I thought they'd killed you," she admitted.

"What?" Harry said in dismay, tilting her head so that she was looking at him again. "What do you mean?"

"I heard the curse," Ginny insisted. "I kept calling for you, but you didn't respond. What was I supposed to think?"

"Merlin," Harry muttered, the full impact of her words hitting him at once. He pulled her close to him and she put her arms around him, hugging him firmly. He didn't care that his back was stinging, or that his head suddenly began pounding away dully, he only cared about what he had put her through.

He wondered briefly if she had understood what he had told Voldemort about the prophecy, but he pushed the desire to ask her to the back of his mind. He could tell she wasn't crying, but made no move to release her, simply holding her close for as long as he could, trying to prolong their time together. He turned his face into her neck and breathed in the perfume that she rarely failed to wear, the scent sending his head spinning as he inhaled again.

"Are you okay?" Ginny pressed, raising her head to look at him. "I mean- how do you feel?"

"I'm fi-" he began.

"Don't say you're fine," she interrupted firmly. "You're not."

Harry sighed gently, looking past her and glancing at Sirius who stood by the door, watching them. Harry looked back at Ginny again, wondering how she seemed to know him so well. He closed his eyes and gently rested his forehead against hers, feeling her hot breath on his chin.

"I'm not okay," he admitted softly. "But, I will be," he promised, grasping her hand firmly as though sealing the promise. He felt her nod gently in reply, his answer having satisfied her. They spoke quietly for a few more minutes, both of them avoiding the subject of the prophecy before Mad Eye interrupted them.

"Ginny," Mad Eye said softly as he approached the bed. "It's time to go."

Harry's stomach seemed to twist itself into knots at these words, not wanting her to go, fear and paranoia filling him at the thought of her leaving again.

"I'll come back soon," Ginny promised him as she kissed him goodbye. Harry barely heard her, simply nodding at her words. She stood up and let go of his hand, kissing him on the cheek one last time before she left. He watched as Mad Eye quickly ushered her from the room, closing the door as they left, leaving only Harry and Sirius remaining.

Harry's heart seemed to be filling his entire chest, his hand feeling oddly empty now that it no longer enclosed Ginny's. Harry looked at the door blankly as his exhaustion suddenly hit him, his head pounding as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Sirius sat down on the edge of his bed, brushing the hair out of Harry's face as he began speaking.

"You should lie down again," Sirius began, having immediately noticed Harry's fatigue. "You need some decent sleep."

"I've been out cold long enough," Harry said evenly, not meeting Sirius' eyes.

"You need some decent sleep," Sirius insisted. "Go on."

Harry let his head fall forward for a moment, knowing that Sirius was right. Harry reluctantly lay down on his side, sweet relief flowing through his as Sirius pulled the blankets over him. Harry swallowed thickly as his eyes began drifting shut, using all his strength to keep them open. Seeing Harry's struggle to remain awake, Sirius sat down in the chair beside the bed, gently taking one of Harry's hands in his own, reaching out his other to Harry's head. He began running his fingers through Harry's jet black hair, occasionally feeling the bruises at the back of his head.

Harry was fast asleep after only a minute, and Sirius sighed with relief, the pressure to hold himself together was lifted now that Harry was oblivious to the world around him. Sirius removed his hand from Harry's hair and now grasped Harry's hand between both of his, trying to warm it up.

Sirius leant back in his chair, wondering whether or not he was right to not tell Harry that Aurors were coming that afternoon.


	47. Chapter 47

Despite having slept into the early hours of the afternoon, exhaustion still plagued Harry. Yet his muscles couldn't seem to stay still. Having grown restless of lying down, he gingerly tried to sit up in the hospital bed. His muscles ached and his stomach churned painfully as he moved, reminding him of his unsuccessful attempt at eating a piece of toast a few hours earlier. He could still taste the acidic aftertaste that remained in the back of his mouth, despite having washed his mouth as thoroughly as he had been able to after being sick.

A sudden wave of dizziness came over Harry. He placed his elbow on his leg, resting his head on his hand for a moment and closing his eyes until the dizziness subsided. He raised his head and drew in a great breath, remembering how difficult it felt to breath that deeply. His head still spinning, Harry looked over at the open door, seeing Sirius' blurry outline standing in the doorway talking to someone Harry could not see.

He longed to be able to get out of the bed, but knew he wouldn't have the strength to hold himself up for very long. Distracting himself from the desire, he looked down at his arm, tracing the dark outline of the tattoo that still stung when he touched it, the skin around it still red raw. He wondered who knew about it, hoping against the odds that Ron, Hermione and Ginny had not seen it. For all he knew, it had been published on the front page of the Prophet. He shivered outwardly as bright green seemed to flash before his eyes and he could almost feel the pain in his shoulder at the memory of Bellatrix forcing his arm behind his back.

"Harry," Sirius said, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. "What are you doing sitting up?"

Harry looked down at the bed sheets, his pulse racing. "Sick of laying down," he answered shortly. Sirius nodded solemnly, approaching the other side of the bed. A flick of his wand and the bed adjusted so Harry could sit up without having to support himself. Harry couldn't help but notice that Sirius looked rather grim.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

Sighing softly as he sat down on Harry's bedside, he answered hesitantly. "I've been speaking to Edward Proctor."

"Who's he?" Harry asked, sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

"He's an Auror," Sirius replied after a few moments. "He was in charge of the search for you."

Harry looked at Sirius for a moment, slowly making sense of what Sirius was trying to say. Harry's heart sank to somewhere in his stomach as he realised what Sirius wanted him to do.

"No," Harry said softly, his heart racing again.

"Harry-"

"Sirius, please," Harry begged. "I don't want to talk to anyone. I can't."

Sirius grasped Harry's hand firmly and looked down at the sheets, avoiding having to look at Harry's pleading eyes. "Remember after the Third Task? How you felt completely awful?"

He looked up as though waiting for Harry to respond, but continued when Harry stared at him incredulously. "Remember how much better you felt after talking to Dumbledore?"

"That's completely different," Harry replied lowly, not bothering to hide his anger. "You know it is. I knew Dumbledore before and - and that was just an hour with Voldemort. This was... a bit more. Besides he's from the ministry." Harry continued, looking for every excuse possible to get out of the interview. "How do we know that he won't say I'm lying, or tell the press, or something. You know how awful they've been to us. Please Sirius, don't make me do this."

"Harry, please," Sirius continued as he raised his head. "Proctor needs to talk to you."

"Can't it wait?" Harry begged.

"He's already been waiting all morning."

"Well what's he want to know so bad?"

Sirius said nothing for a moment, looking back down at the sheets. "They've arrested Draco Malfoy," Sirius confessed.

"What?" Harry replied in disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

Sirius shook his head. "He's claiming that he was coerced into participating in your kidnapping; and everything else that he's done."

Harry remained silent, unable to find anything to say.

"Well the problem is," Sirius continued, filling in the silence. "There's no evidence to dispute what he's saying. That's why they need you to tell them what happened."

Harry didn't reply for a few minutes, words failing him. "Can't it wait?" he asked again, his one last hope that the Auror would simply go away.

Sirius shook his head, guilt filling him as he did so. "If they don't have evidence against him, they'll have to let him go. Besides, they're going to have to talk to you eventually," he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "If you do it now, then you won't need to keep worrying about it for the next few days."

Harry looked back down at the sheets, knowing that Sirius was right. He didn't reply for a few moments, trying desperately to think of any other excuse that he could use to post pone the meeting. Sirius' hand was warm and firm around his own, and the thought was oddly comforting to Harry, as he comprehended what he was going to have to do.

"I look like hell," Harry muttered under his breath.

Sirius squeezed his hand. "If it weren't for him, you'd be a whole lot worse."

Harry didn't reply for a moment, but before he knew it he was nodding his head gently. Whether he was agreeing with Sirius or consenting to the meeting, he had no idea, but found that he didn't really care.

"You'll be okay," Sirius said, relieved that his godson had agreed. "_We _will be okay." Sirius released Harry's hand, instead raising gently to the back of his head. He leant forward and gently kissed Harry's bruised forehead, a gesture that he had never made before. He quickly stood up and went back to the door, quietly inviting the Auror in. Harry ran his fingers through his hair in nervousness, suddenly realising how clammy he felt.

"Hi, Harry," Proctor greeted him as he entered. "Glad to see you're awake."

"Hi," Harry replied stoically, as he observed the tall Auror. They politely shook hands for a moment, the tension and awkwardness filling the room. Harry glanced at Sirius who had regained his place on the edge of the bed, quickly grasping his god sons cold hand.

"Harry," Proctor began after he was seated. "I'm Auror Proctor, I was in charge of the search for you."

Harry nodded and looked away for a moment, wishing he could say something to express his gratitude, but he couldn't seem to find the words. Harry looked back up as he realised that Proctor was still speaking.

"We just need to talk about some things that have been happening in the last few weeks."

"Oh, yeah," he replied offhandedly.

"So," Proctor began after a moment. "We don't need to go over every detail, that's not necessary at the moment. Our first agenda is Draco Malfoy, I need you to tell me everything that you remember about him."

"Yeah," Harry agreed softly. "He mostly messed up."

"How do you mean?"

"Uh," Harry muttered as he averted his eyes, trying to specifically remember anything that Malfoy had done to him.

"Did he purposely do anything to hurt you?" Proctor asked, trying to guide him.

Pain shot through his chest and throat as Harry gave a short laugh and looked back up. "You mean, besides holding me under water until he thought I'd passed out?"

"When did this happen?" Proctor asked quietly.

Harry said nothing for a moment, looking away again. For a moment he thought he could feel the icy water rushing over his body, Malfoys hand holding his head under. He pushed the thought out of his head as quickly as he could, feeling his hand trembling despite Sirius' tight grasp.

"I, um," Harry muttered again, wishing he could properly string a sentence together. "I don't know when it was, but I managed to get away from them."

"How did you do that?"

"Malfoy," he said shortly, glancing up at Sirius' stony face. "He was taking me upstairs and I managed to stun him."

"You got his wand?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

"Well," Harry started, trailing off. "I guess, but I didn't take it. I guess I wasn't thinking."

"Understandable," Proctor added as though Sirius hadn't spoken. "When did you see him next?"

"When he almost caught me."

Proctor didn't reply, he was deep in thought as the three of them remained silent for a few moments. Harry glanced up at Sirius again who smiled at him encouragingly. Harry looked away from him, knowing him well enough to understand that the smile was fake.

"How long were you on the run?"

"Oh, erm," Harry said, startled by the sudden question. "Just one night, I think. Maybe two."

"And when Malfoy attacked you, that was when you were caught?"

"No," Harry replied, taking a deep breath. "I managed to get away from him. I hit him on the head with a rock."

Proctor nodded at this, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "Tell me what happened when they caught you again."

Harry sighed softly as he gently leant back into the pillows, tiredness catching up with him again even though he hadn't been awake for more than a few hours. "Well, Greyback attacked me, but I got away-"

"Greyback attacked you?" Sirius interrupted in alarm, having not realised. "Harry, was he transformed?"

"No," Harry said imperatively, completely sure of his answer. "He barely hurt me," he lied.

"Are you sure he didn't bite you? At all?" Sirius pressed anxiously.

"I'm sure," Harry lied again, even though he honestly couldn't remember much of what had happened. Ignoring Sirius' anxiety, Harry looked back down at the bed as he cautiously crossed his legs beneath the warm blankets. He wished that Proctor would leave.

"Harry," Proctor continued, his voice reminding Harry of all that was good about being alone. "I need you to keep going. How did they catch you?"

Breathing out slowly, Harry ran his fingers through his hair, trying to put his few recollections into words. "Well," he began. "There's not really much to tell. One minute I was alone, the next they were all there."

"Was Draco Malfoy there?"

He paused for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure, I can't really remember much."

"What do you remember about him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is there anything about him that you haven't mentioned? Anything at all."

Harry glanced at Sirius whose face was stony with worry. He thought hard for a moment, trying to think of anything else that Malfoy had done, any other moment that Malfoy had been present.

"Look, I-" Harry started, trying to think properly. "I can hardly think, I just don't remember."

"Understandable, of course," Proctor said quietly after a moment. The three of them remained silent for a few more moments as Proctor was deep in thought.

"Well, Harry," he began. "The situation now, is that Draco Malfoy is being held by the Auror Department, and we are going to charge him with whatever offences we can throw at him."

Harry nodded, realising that he didn't really care at the moment.

"His case will be taken before the Wizengamont, so I need you to consider testifying against him."

"What?" Harry said in disbelief, looking up at him.

Proctor nodded as though he had expected this reaction. "I understand how that would be difficult for you, but you are our only witness."

"No," Harry said firmly as he sat up. "I won't testify."

"Harry, wait," Sirius said quietly, placing his hand on his shoulder. He turned to Proctor. "What would testifying involve?"

"No," Harry protested, cutting off Proctors response. He looked at Sirius incredulously. "No. I won't."

He pulled his hand from Sirius' grasp, feeling strangely betrayed by his words. His chest hurt as he tried taking a deep breath, hoping to quell his anger and panic.

"There is another way," Proctor spoke cautiously. "If you would be willing to submit a pensive memory of your kidnapping, and of Albus Dumbledore's murder, you wouldn't nee-"

"No!" Harry cut him off, not even considering his proposal.

"Harry, you can trust me," Proctor said imploringly as he leaned towards him. "I'm not Fudge, nor is Scrimgeour. We want to help you."

"No, what you want is for me to tell everyone what a great job you've been doing," Harry said scathingly. "That's the only thing Scrimgeour wanted from me last year. Why should that have changed?"

"Harry," Proctor said as he stood up.

Mirroring his actions, Sirius swiftly stood up from the bed and faced Proctor. "I think it's time you leave," Sirius said coldly, placing his hand back on Harry's shoulder.

Proctor looked at Harry imploringly, not moving an inch. The three men remained still, silence pressing in on them all. As he looked away from Proctor, Harry was suddenly glad that he wasn't alone, that Sirius was here with him. His recent anger towards Sirius quickly dissipated, and he found himself sub-consciously reaching for the hand he had let go of, relieved when Sirius squeezed back.

"Harry, you need to understand," Proctor pressed softly. "The evidence against Draco Malfoy is purely circumstantial. When the case goes to Wizengamont, his representation will say that he was coerced into his actions. They will say he was only looking after himself. We don't have any evidence against him to rebuke that. Do you understand that, Harry?"

"Yes," he replied quietly.

Proctor stared at him, unable to comprehend his lack of co-operation. Silence fell through the room as Proctor stood there in disbelief.

"They will let him go."

Harry nodded.

"He will probably return to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded again, his voice failing him this time. The pounding in the back of his head had returned, and he thought wildly of Snape repeatedly throwing his head against the wall. He breathed out raggedly.

"Harry, please," Proctor begged, knowing this may be his last chance to get solid evidence against Draco Malfoy. "Even just a formal statement at the ministry."

Harry looked at Proctor. "Voldemort tortured me until I could barely think," he said solidly, ignoring Sirius' sharp intake of breath. "If I can refuse to give him information, then I can refuse to give you information."

Proctor said nothing to this, remaining silent until Sirius spoke again.

"You need to go," Sirius said again, his voice deep and threatening. "Now."

Proctor remained motionless for a moment, but his stony expression suddenly changed as though he had remembered where he was, and who he was talking to. He breathed out quickly and stepped back from the bed.

"Thank you, for speaking with me," he said as he turned and approached the door. "If you change your mind, the trial if on the sixteenth."

Harry breathed with relief as the Auror left, relaxing back into the pillows. "Thanks," he muttered to his godfather.

Sirius nodded blankly, is attention focused at the door. After a moment, he pulled his attention away from it and focused on Harry.

"I'll be right back," he said gently.

"Where are you going?" Harry said in dismay. The last thing he wanted now was to be alone with his thoughts.

"I'll just be a moment," he promised. He leant down and kissed Harry's forehead again, before letting go of his hand and quickly exiting the room. Closing the door behind him Sirius looked down the hall, spotting Proctor as he quickly approached the stairs.

"Proctor," he called out loudly. "Wait."

Proctor stopped in his tracks and spun around, recognising the voice instantly.

Sirius quickly approached the Auror, every step feeling as though he were betraying Harry even more. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he neared the confused looking Auror.

"Will they really let him out?" Sirius muttered to him quietly.

"Who?" Proctor said. "Malfoy?"

"Yes, Malfoy," Sirius said in frustration. "Who else?"

Proctor took a deep breath. "We have no evidence against him. Wizengamont will have no choice but to let him go."

"But what about what Harry just said to you?" Sirius said in dismay. "What more evidence do you need?"

"That information was given off the record," Proctor replied in frustration. "I can't take that to court."

Sirius ran his hand through his thick hair, knowing that he would do anything he could to ensure that Malfoy wasn't released. Anything.

"Don't worry," Sirius said lowly, a plan forming in his mind. "You tell the Wizengamont that Harry will be testifying."

"Mr Black," Proctor began with concern. "We can't force him to testify."

"Listen to me," Sirius said coldly. "You do your job, and I'll do mine. He will testify."


	48. Chapter 48

"Harry, do you understand that you have injuries that require ongoing treatment, and that you are leaving against medical advice?"

"Yes," Harry replied firmly as he zipped up his jacket. He glanced at Sirius, who smiled at him weakly, knowing that he couldn't stop Harry from leaving.

It was the very early hours of Saturday morning, and Harry had recently won his battle with Sirius to be released. Despite knowing that his injuries were very severe, he had insisted that Sirius take him home, to anywhere but the hospital bed that he had been confined to all day.

The healer nodded and quickly left the room, leaving Harry and Sirius alone for a few minutes.

"Are you sure you won't stay?" Sirius asked again, hoping to Merlin that Harry would listen to reason. "You can barely stand."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I can stand just fine."

"You were barely able to change your clothes!"

"Only because you wouldn't quit trying to help," Harry retorted lightly as he flexed his wrist, which was now free from needles. Sirius didn't reply for a few moments, so Harry leant back into the pillows, relieved that he was now fully dressed and ready to leave at a moment's notice.

"How are the cuts?"

"They're fine," Harry lied, remembering the agonizing sensation he felt as the Healers painstakingly closed his many cuts and lacerations. He ran his finger along the deep wound on his jaw, feeling the raised up texture of the stitches he had been given. He suddenly noticed the glare he was receiving from Sirius, and quickly answered him again. "They're a bit sore."

Satisfied with his honest answer Sirius nodded, relaxing back into the chair as they both waited for members of the order to arrive. Harry nervously ran his fingers through his hair, wishing that he was home already. Sighing, he leaned back into the pillows as he briefly studied his left arm, the tattoo hidden beneath the bandage and his jacket. Despite the potions he had been administered, the tattoo still burnt away dully, and he wondered if it would hurt forever.

"Sirius," he asked quietly.

Sirius' head shot up, his attention now focused on Harry rather than on what was happening outside the door. "Yeah?"

Harry paused before asking what was on his mind, not entirely sure that he really wanted to know the truth. "Who knows about my arm," he asked quietly, elaborating as he saw Sirius' confused glance. "About the mark?"

"Oh," Sirius replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. He moved away from the door and approached the bed, his lips pursed. "Only a few people in the Order," he answered honestly. "Probably some Aurors, also."

Harry nodded and swallowed thickly. "What about Ron? Or Hermione?"

"They don't know," Sirius interrupted before Harry could continue. He took his usual place on the edge of the bed. "Harry, don't worry about it. It doesn't mean anything, it's just a mark."

"I know," Harry replied, his tone telling Sirius that he should drop the subject.

Time seemed to crawl by as Harry scrawled his signature onto the various parchments he had to sign, and he barely listened as Healers explained to he and Sirius the prescriptions that he would need to obtain, more concerned with how long the order was taking to arrive. He rubbed his tired eyes as he relished the idea of seeing Ginny again, before realising that she would probably be sleeping, as not many people knew he was leaving the hospital.

"Harry," Sirius said quietly as he placed his hand on Harry's knee, pulling him from his thoughts. "They're here."

Harry nodded as Sirius stood up and approached the door. Harry sat up and swung his legs over the edge, contemplating what seemed like a long drop to the floor. He looked up and smiled softly as he saw Tonks and Mad-Eye waiting outside the door, Sirius making last minute arrangements with the Healer. Gently sliding off the bed, Harry hissed as his trainers hit the floor, pain shooting through his feet and legs. He wiggled his toes and grimaced as he straightened up, waiting for a moment as he gained his balance before gently bending over and taking the strap from his bag. He straightened again and slung the bag over his shoulder, thankful that the Healers had numbed his back and chest.

Pain shot through his legs as he approached the doorway, the group of people gathered outside fell silent as they saw him. Seeing his godson up and walking, Sirius immediately converged on him.

"Are you alright?" he said hurriedly, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder as though he expected him to topple over at any moment.

"I'm fine," Harry stressed. "We ready to go?"

"We surely are," Tonks replied cheerfully. "Good to see you on your feet."

"I want to check things out one more time," Mad Eye grunted before Harry could reply, avoiding having to look at him as he turned around and stalked off down the corridor.

"You've already done that," Tonks said loudly after him, before continuing under her breath. "Twice."

"Glad to be going home?" Healer Maguire said as he walked up behind Sirius.

"Definitely," Harry said, leaning against the door frame to hide the wave of dizziness he experienced.

"Good," he replied as he turned to Sirius, handing him a scroll of parchment. "Get this filled out at the Apothecary, and bring Harry straight back if there are signs of infection."

"I will," Sirius said with a nod as he pocketed the parchment before shaking hands with the Healer.

"Come on you lot," Mad Eye grunted impatiently as he returned. "Let's go,"

Standing up straight, Harry turned to the Healer as Sirius quickly ducked back inside the hospital room. "Thank you," Harry said sincerely as he held out his hand.

Healer Maguire shook it with a grim look on his face. "You're welcome. Just don't let me see you back in here."

"I'll do my best," Harry promised.

"We'll take good care of him," Tonks assured him as Sirius reappeared.

"Are you lot coming?" Mad Eye said from down the hall. "Or did I just come out in the middle of the night for my health?"

"Well we are in a hospital," Tonks muttered as she rolled her eyes.

Harry smiled at her words as they began following Mad Eye down the deserted corridor. With Sirius' hand firmly on his back, Harry barely paid attention to where they were going, hearing the occasional wail or bird like squawk from the bustling wards as they descended the still deserted staircase. He paid little attention to the various members of the order that they passed in the halls, each of them nodding at the group before following them from a distance. They soon came to the ground floor and cautiously exited to a small courtyard at the rear of the hospital, . Kingsley was waiting for them.

"Everything alright?" Kingsley asked as he began doing a quick head count.

"Yes," Tonks said as she too started counting heads. "We're all here."

"Well get going then," Kingsley said in satisfaction as he drew near Harry. "Good to see you, Harry."

"Yeah," Harry replied offhandedly as Tonks vanished into thin air with an audible crack. "You too."

Two more cracks resonated through the air as people followed Tonks. Harry closed his eyes for a moment as he breathed deeply, relishing in the crisp feel of the night air. He opened his eyes and looked into the dark sky, suddenly thankful that he was able to enjoy such a small thing.

"You alright?" Sirius asked as he noticed Harry's distance.

"Sirius," Harry began in frustration, averting his attention from the sky.

"Okay," Sirius replied before Harry could continue. "Okay."

A bright light illuminated the courtyard as a wolf shaped Patronus entered. "It's clear," Tonks' Patronus informed them.

"Right," Mad-Eye said sternly as he walked over to Harry, his wooden leg clunking on the pavers. "Hold out your arm."

Harry froze. "What?" he replied as Voldemort's cold voice seemed to echo in his head, and the burning on his arm intensified as he remembered holding out his arm for Voldemort.

"Your arm, Potter," Mad-Eye continued, oblivious to Harry's discomfort. "We're apparating."

Harry remained motionless for a moment until Sirius placed his hand on his shoulder, having sensed Harry's discomfort. Quickly collecting himself and forcing Voldemort's command to the back of his head, Harry nodded and held out his arm, ignoring his racing pulse as Mad-Eye gripped it tightly.

"Ready?" Mad-Eye asked, waiting for Harry's approval.

"See you on the other side," Sirius joked lightly as Harry nodded.

Forcing a reluctant smile, Harry allowed Mad-Eye to guide them as they apparated to Grimmauld Place, not completely prepared for the awful rib crushing sensation. The apparition was over almost as soon as it began, and Harry gasped as he was suddenly able to draw air, his knees buckling at the same time. Obviously prepared for this, Mad-Eye had a tight grip on both of his arms and had stopped Harry's fall before it even began.

"Alright, Potter?" he asked as Harry swayed in his grip, his gruff voice sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yeah," Harry replied as he straightened up. "Thanks."

Wasting no more time Mad-Eye quickly ushered Harry towards the front door that Tonks was standing guard over. She winked at him as he passed through, Mad-Eye following behind, his magical eye revolving constantly. Harry sighed with relief as he entered the familiar entrance room of Grimmauld Place, glad to be somewhere that he was familiar with after so long.

"C'mon," Mad-Eye gruffed, resisting the urge to poke Harry in the back. "There's someone downstairs that's dying to see you again."

Harry glanced over his back to the front door, hoping that Sirius would be following soon. His chest heavy with anxiety he started down the stairs to the basement kitchen, smiling genuinely when he saw Mrs Weasley.

"Oh, Harry dear," she exclaimed, putting down her tea cup as he descended the stairs. It appeared that she had gotten up in the middle of the night, as she was wearing her dressing gown as she quickly walked over to Harry.

"Hi, Mrs Weasley," Harry said warmly, smiling genuinely as she gently hugged him. He was grateful that she didn't enclose him too tightly, and almost didn't want her to release him. He sighed and smiled at her as she released him, trying to reassure her that he was okay.

"Oh, you've had an awful time," she fretted as she gently cupped his face, the motherly gesture making his heart swell. She quickly looked him up and down, seeing the disapproval on her face as she spotted the long line of stitches along his jaw.

"How are you feeling dear?" she asked as she ushered him over to a chair at the long kitchen table.

"I'm feeling good," he lied again, though he wasn't nearly as bothered by her concern as he was by Sirius'. "Just tired."

"Of course," she agreed. "Can I get you anything at all, dear?"

"No, thanks."

She nodded as she bustled around him for another moment, taking the bag that he had slung over the back of the chair. The stairs behind him creaked and Harry was relieved as he saw Sirius slowly descending.

"Any problems?" Mad-Eye asked.

Sirius shook his head silently as he came over to where Harry was sitting. "C'mon," he said quietly, clearly seeing the dark lines under his godsons eyes. "You need to get some sleep."

"Sick of sleep," Harry muttered as he reluctantly stood up.

"We'll see you in the morning," Mrs Weasley assured him as she kissed him on the cheek. Harry was shocked to see that she had started crying, but said nothing as she turned away, allowing Sirius to guide him upstairs.

As they stealthily passed the blurred portrait of Mrs Black, Harry suddenly remember something. "Sirius, do you know what happened to my glasses?"

"Yeah," Sirius replied after he thought for a moment. "The Auror Department has them. I'm picking them up tomorrow morning, along with your wand."

Harry said nothing, having only just realised that his wand hadn't been returned to him. "I didn't even realise that I didn't have it," Harry admitted.

"You had bigger things on your mind."

Harry nodded as they ascended two flights of stairs, stopping short as they passed the bathroom door. "I might just have a quick shower," Harry said, hoping that Sirius didn't put up too much of a fight.

"You need to go to bed," Sirius stressed as he too stopped in his tracks.

"I will," Harry emphasised. "I'll just be five minutes," he pleaded.

Sirius considered this for a moment, his lips pursed. He nodded reluctantly after a few moments, summoning a towel and pair of pajamas as he did so.

"Five minutes," Sirius stressed as he handed the clothes to Harry. "Then you're going straight to bed."

Harry nodded as he took the clothes, thankful that Sirius had chosen a long sleeved shirt. "Thanks," he said as he opened the bathroom door and stepped inside, the cold tile floor soothing his sore feet. He raised his eyebrows as Sirius attempted to follow him inside.

"I'm quite capable of having a shower," Harry said. "Why don't _you _go to bed. You look like crap."

"I look better than you," Sirius said sternly as he made no move to leave the bathroom. Harry glared at him as Sirius stood in the door way, refusing to back down to his godfather.

"Fine," Sirius muttered as he left the bathroom. "But don't lock the door," he stressed. "I'll be right outside."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, glad to finally be left alone as he closed the bathroom door, leaving it unlocked as Sirius had requested. He sighed as he stood still on the spot for a moment, nervously running his hand through his hair as he thought. Feeling another wave of dizziness, he leant against the counter to find his balance, closing his eyes tightly as he waited for it to pass. When it did, he looked up into the mirror, examining his face for the first time.

"Oh dear," the mirror said. "You don't look so good."

Ignoring the mirrors remark, he grimaced as he saw the colourful array of bruises that covered his entire face, and the various cuts and grazes. He gently traced the stitches on his face, realising why Mrs Weasley had begun crying, why Ginny had also cried. He vowed to have Mrs Weasley remove what bruises she could, knowing there was no way he was walking around Grimmauld Place with his face in such a terrible state. He reached behind him and turned on the shower, slowly tracing his bottom lip, swollen from the stinging cut in the corner of his mouth. Hot steam began filling the room as Harry gingerly removed his jacket and tee-shirt, dropping them on the floor as he studied the array of wounds on his chest and stomach.

He considered counting the many stitches that held his wounds together, but couldn't be bothered as he wondered what Mrs Weasley would say if she knew the true extent of his stitches. He turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder, wincing as he studied the many long thin lashes he had received from Voldemort. His heart felt heavy at the knowledge that the Healers didn't know how to heal any of his wounds, the stitches simply holding them together until they could find an antidote for the dark magic. Harry curiously pressed the blackened bruises along his torso and stomach, gasping at the extent of the pain which shot deep inside of him. He unwound the bandage on his left wrist, studying the tattoo that had also baffled the healers. Unable to look at his injuries any more, Harry turned away from the mirror and finished undressing, surprised as he found more blackened bruises along his legs that he didn't remember getting.

The water was scorching hot as he entered the shower, yet he forced himself to stay under, hissing as his whole body stung under the onslaught of the running water. He turned his face into the spray, sighing with relief as the hot water eased his aching muscles. He grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed his skin raw, satisfaction flowing through him as darkened water ran down his body and into the drain. He washed the caked blood out of his hair and scrubbed his fingernails, removing every last trace of dirt and blood that he could find.

He lost track of how long he had spent in the shower, solely focused on scrubbing his skin raw until he finally felt clean. He reluctantly turned off the taps, the cold air shocking him as he grabbed his towel, slinging it around his waist as he stepped out of the shower. He rubbed the condensation off the mirror and examined his face again, realising that he could do with a shave. Feeling much better he opened the cabinet, looking for the razor that he normally kept there. He rolled his eyes as he realised that someone has removed all of the razors, fearing that Harry might do the worst. He knew he could put off shaving for a while longer, so he didn't let this bother him. He quickly redressed into his pajamas and hung up his towel, taking one last moment to himself before he left the bathroom.

"I'm still kicking," Harry said lightly as he left the bathroom, finding Sirius waiting in the hallway as he knew he would be. Sirius glared at him for a moment, not finding his joke funny.

"Straight to bed," he replied sternly.

Harry nodded solemnly, knowing that he needed sleep. He allowed Sirius to usher him up another flight of stairs and along the hallway until they stopped outside of a familiar room.

"You're room?" Harry asked.

Sirius nodded as he opened the door. "I'll be right next door if you need me."

Harry nodded as he entered, observing the comfortable double bed. "Okay."

They stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to say next.

"I'll let you get some sleep," Sirius said, breaking the silence. "Promise me something."

"What?" Harry said quietly as Sirius placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Come and get me, if you need anything."

"I will," Harry said offhandedly, knowing that he would avoid having to wake his godfather at any cost.

"No," Sirius said, obviously detecting Harry's reluctance. "I'm serious. Come and wake me, it doesn't matter what it is."

"Okay," Harry said seriously, looking him in the eye. "I promise."

Nodding, Sirius pulled Harry into a firm hug. Harry breathed easily as he hugged his godfather back, his anxiety fading at the familiar touch.

"Thanks," Harry muttered. "For staying with me at the hospital."

"I wanted to be there." He held Harry closer to him for a moment, as if it was possible for him to never let go. "Do you want me to stay with you for a little while?" Sirius asked as he released Harry, offering him last minute support. "Until you fall asleep?"

"No, it's fine," Harry said, wishing that he had the guts to say yes. "You should get some rest yourself."

Sirius nodded and immediately pulled Harry into his arms again. "I love you, Harry," Sirius quietly spoke into his ear. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening at the words. He knew Sirius was telling him the truth, and that scared him more than anything that had happened to him. "I love you too," Harry whispered, the words almost getting caught in his throat.

Sirius nodded and slowly released him again, kissing Harry's bruised forehead as he did so.

"Good night, mate," he said as he left the room, the candles slowly dimming .

"Night," Harry replied, watching as Sirius pulled the door behind him, purposefully leaving it half way open. Harry stood in the darkness where he was, suddenly feeling more alone than he had in a long time.


	49. Chapter 49

_Harry's legs screamed in protest as he ran through the thick forest, pushing through the trees as fast as he could. He could hear the heavy footsteps of his pursuer behind him, and didn't need to look back to know how close they were. The heavy downpour did little to lessen the loud calls and laughter that he could hear throughout the forest. Despite the burning in his legs and the searing pain in his lungs, Harry did not slow down, pushing himself to run harder instead. _

_Loud thunder rumbled in the black sky overhead as lightening cracked, illuminating the forest. His foot was caught by something and he violently fell over, hitting his head hard, having been unable to break his fall. He lay dazed and unable to move for a moment, waiting for the inevitable attack. The forest suddenly fell deathly quiet, the only sound coming from the loud roar of the heavy rain. Still waiting for the attack, Harry felt himself slowly sitting up and looking around._

_His brain screamed for him to get up and run, but he felt strangely detached from his body as he looking around the now deserted forest, waiting for something to happen. Harry panted heavily, his lungs still searing in pain. He pushed himself into a crouching position as his eyes kept scanning for danger, his heart skipping a beat as he saw someone standing in the distance. He could hardly believe who it was._

"_Ron," Harry whispered as he looked him up and down. Blood ran down the side of his face, skirting the thick tape that was covering his mouth. Harry forced himself to his feet. "Ron!"_

_He scrambled towards Ron, panic flowing through his body, desperate to help him, to stop them hurting him again. The loud calls and laughter had started again, They echoed through Harry's head as he ran towards Ron, but his friend remained still. Harry stopped dead in his tracks as a hooded figure ahead. Adrenaline flowing, Harry retreated back and spun around, facing the tight circle of Death Eaters that had surrounded him, hysteria threatening to set in at any moment._

_Somebody grabbed him from behind, subduing him as the others came close. They pulled back their hoods to reveal the solid masks beneath. _

"_Ron!" Harry screamed. __Surrounded as he was, he couldn't see his friend any longer and was desperate to know that he was safe. __His head was pulled back sharply and his arms were yanked behind his back. He thrashed against his captors, their grips never loosening despite his struggles._

"_No! Stop it!" he screamed, knowing what was going to happen before he even saw the potion. He lashed out with his foot, kicking the nearest person with his foot. Against his will, he slowly felt his body relaxing his mind clouding over as a liquid was poured into his mouth. He unwillingly swallowed, yet they didn't release him from the curse, and his helplessness scared him more than anything as he lay limply in their tight grasp, waiting for what would happen next. _

_His mind racing, Harry finally managed to raise his head, watching in horror as Snape removed his mask, moving towards Harry. He could hear someone saying his name, but he paid them no attention as Snape wrenched his arm from behind his back, gripping it tightly as pain shot through his arm, the dark mark burning in agony. He heard someone scream._

"Harry!" Sirius said loudly, gripping his arm tightly. "Harry, wake up!"

Harry's eyes shot open and quickly realised that it was him screaming. His panicked mind raced as he saw Sirius hovering over him, and he lashed out with his free hand, Sirius' head snapping to the side with the force of the punch.

"Harry!" Sirius said loudly again, ignoring his smarting cheek. He quickly grabbed Harry's other wrist, trying to stop his panic. "It's just a nightmare!"

"Stop it!" Harry yelled hoarsely as he thrashed around, still mostly asleep. "Let me go!"

Against his better judgement Sirius ignored Harry's pleas, pulling Harry upright and into his chest, wrapping his arms around his torso as he waited for Harry to stop thrashing around.

Still in a blind panic Harry weakly fought against the embrace, pleading with his captor one last time. "Please, let me go!"

"It's okay," Sirius whispered into Harry's ear. "You were just dreaming."

Sirius' heart pounded in his chest as Harry slowly calmed down, his struggles becoming less and less. Sirius raised his head and looked into the hallway, watching as Remus ushered Molly back to bed. He turned his attention back to Harry, who had finally stopped fighting him and now rested against his chest.

"Harry?" Sirius said softly, stroking his hair soothingly. "Are you alright?"

After a few moments Harry nodded slowly, taking a deep shuddering breath as he pulled himself away from Sirius' chest, averting his eyes. Sirius' throat clenched as he saw the tears that Harry was trying to hide, noticing how much he was trembling.

Harry quickly wiped his face with his sleeve, relieved when Sirius removed his arms from around him. He breathed in deeply for a few moments, trying to clear the confusion in his head.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, deeply ashamed as he still avoiding Sirius' eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," Sirius soothed, relieved that Harry finally seemed to be fully awake. "You've been home three days, I was waiting for this to happen."

Harry nodded slowly as he suddenly realised how ill he felt. His head ached and he clutched his stomach as nausea rose in his throat, making him regret the small dinner that he had managed to eat a few hours earlier. The pain in his arm seemed to have increased, but he quickly forgot this as he remembered his dream.

"Where's Ron?" Harry said urgently, looking Sirius in the eye for the first time. "Where is he?"

Sirius looked at him incredulously. "He's in bed, where else would he be?"

"I have to see him," Harry muttered as he pulled his legs from the twisted sheets, ignoring the sting he felt in the soles of his feet. He grabbed his wand and pushed past Sirius, quickly leaving his own room in search of Ron's. His heart pounded with fear as he remembered running towards Ron in his dream, unable to reach him.

"Harry, what is it?" Sirius said from behind him as they descended the staircase. "Was it Voldemort?"

"They had him," Harry said shortly, too rushed to give a proper answer. He quickly found Ron's door and pushed it open without knocking, walking into the dark room.

Harry stopped short, staring at the bed as the moonlight illuminated the room. Harry's heart unclenched and he sighed with relief as Ron's snores filled his ears. Still breathing heavily, Harry stared at the bed, having never been so relieved to see Ron's flaming red hair.

Sensing Sirius' presence beside him, Harry suddenly felt incredibly foolish. He gripped his wand tighter as he stared at Ron's sleeping form, feeling the need to explain his actions.

"He knew something was going to happen," he muttered to Sirius. "He told me."

Sirius didn't respond, reaching down to grasp the hand in which Harry held his wand. "Give me your wand."

"What?" Harry whispered incredulously, his head snapping up to look at his god father.

"The Healers said not to use magic. Just give it to me."

Harry stared at Sirius for a few moments, trying to figure out how serious he was. He reluctantly opened his clenched hand and allowed him to take his wand. Harry turned on the spot and walked out of the room, not understanding his sudden anger at his godfather. He was barely halfway up the stair case before he was stopped.

"Harry, stop," Sirius said from below him, closing Ron's door softly. Harry reluctantly stopped his ascent, wondering why he had bothered as he heard Sirius climbing up behind him, stowing his wand away swiftly. A warm hand was placed on the small of his back as Sirius spoke to him softly.

"Come downstairs for a while. We need to talk."

Harry didn't reply, preferring to look at the wall beside him. Sirius stayed there a moment before heading back downstairs, knowing that Harry would follow in a few moments. Wishing that he could just go back bed, Harry bit his lip, reluctantly following Sirius' lead down the stairs and into the den.

He gratefully sat down on the comfortable couch, his exhaustion crashing down on him as he did so. A shiver went through his body and he sat cross legged on the couch, resting his head in his hands as Sirius sat beside him.

"Here," Sirius said, offering a steaming cup of tea. "Drink this."

Harry raised his head and took the mug, not keen on drinking it. "Thanks," he muttered, even though he wished Sirius hadn't bothered. They sat in silence for a few minutes as Harry contemplated drinking the tea, but couldn't seem to summon the will power to do so. The sweet aroma filled his nostrils and his thoughts immediately raced to Ginny, and he found himself immensely glad that she wasn't here with him. He hesitantly took a sip and tasted the subtle presence of Calming Draught, feeling it's effects almost immediately. He couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed by Sirius' trickery, and he considered refusing to drink the rest, but these thoughts were quashed as the potion continued taking effect.

"Do you remember what happened?" Sirius asked, having been waiting for Harry to take a sip. "In the dream?"

Harry didn't reply for a moment, trying to remember anything else before slowly shaking his head. "I don't remember much."

"But, Ron was there?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said stiffly, hoping that he had made himself clear.

Sirius looked at him for a moment, contemplating his next words. "Drink some more, Harry. You'll feel better."

Harry considered telling Sirius what he could do with his drugged tea, but found it was much easier to keep drinking it. Welcome relief seemed to spread through his body and he found himself relaxing back into the couch, his breathing slowing to a more comfortable rate. The tea was half gone before Sirius spoke again.

"Harry?"

"Yeah," he muttered in reply, looking at him.

"You know Draco Malfoy is going to trial, today?"

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied lowly as he looked away from Sirius, hoping that he didn't bring up the subject of testifying again.

"I've been talking to Tonks," Sirius said, hoping that he wasn't pushing his godson too far. "She said the evidence against him is weak, when you consider the defence he's putting up."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked, anger beginning to build.

Sirius didn't reply for a moment, knowing how Harry was going to react. "They need you to testify."

"No!" Harry said firmly, almost before Sirius had finished speaking. Standing abruptly, he crossed to the other side of the room, spilling his tea as he placed it on the coffee table. "I don't believe this," Harry muttered lowly.

"Harry, you are their only witness," Sirius said calmly. "Without you, the Wizengamont have little evidence against him."

"I can't believe you!" Harry said, his voice becoming louder. "I've already told you I'm not testifying, and you bring it up again now?"

"Harry, please," Sirius pleaded, slowly standing up. "If you don't give them the evidence they need, they will let him go."

"Why do you keep pushing this?"

"They will let him go!" Sirius emphasised.

"You're supposed to be my father!" Harry said in anger, knowing that his words would hurt Sirius. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

Sirius sighed and turned away from Harry and sat back down, trying to ignore what he had said. "You should drink the rest," he said as he flicked his wand at the mug, levitating it towards Harry.

"No!" Harry said furiously, and the mug seemed to back away from him despite the charm. "I know exactly what you've put in it. You can't drug me and expect me to do what you want, Voldemort already tried that."

Sirius looked up at Harry, his jaw dropping open in realisation. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely, having overlooked what the Death Eaters had done to him.

"Why are you bringing this up?" Harry demanded, ignoring Sirius' apology.

Sirius put his head into his hands, not wanting to fight with his godson. "Malfoy is claiming that he was coerced into what he did to you."

"You already told me this," Harry said solidly. "What has that got to do with me?"

Sirius looked up at Harry, begging him to understand. "It doesn't matter what charges the Auror Department throws at Malfoy, there is no evidence against what he is saying. You are their only witness, Harry. If you don't testify, he will get away with this."

"Do you understand that it's an open courtroom?" Harry countered, trying to keep his voice level. "Do you realise the Daily Prophet will be there, or that anyone from the Ministry can come and watch?"

"Harry, think this through!" Sirius said in a defeated voice, knowing that he was going to lose this argument.

"Think this through?" Harry said disbelievingly. "Sirius, this is all that I have been thinking about. Do you have any idea what it would be like for me?"

Sirius said nothing, choosing to stare at the floor instead.

"They won't just ask me what I remember," Harry continued, his every word stinging Sirius. "They will want to know everything."

"Just tell them what you told Proctor, Harry, it will be fine!"

"They'll want to know exactly what he did to me," Harry continued scathingly, moving closer to the couch where Sirius sat. "They'll want to know how many times he attacked me, how he cursed me, how long he held me under water!"

"Harry, stop it!" Sirius said lowly, not wanting to hear anymore.

"No!" Harry exclaimed, finally sensing that he was getting his point across. "You stop it! You think you can just march in here and tell me what to do?"

"Harry," Sirius said loudly as he stood up, trying his hardest to keep his temper under control. "They will let him go, and you are the only one who can do anything about it!"

"Good for him!" Harry said, not bothering to hide his anger. "He's not going to get far once he goes back to Voldemort."

"Think of the information he can give us!" Sirius pleaded, moving closer to his godson. "If he goes to Azkaban we will have complete control over him. Think of the information he can give to the Order!"

"The Order?" Harry whispered in disbelief. He moved away from Sirius and went to the other side of the room, anger and betrayal filling him with every step. "Do you think I give a crap about the Order? I am supposed to be your son," he continued, punctuating every word. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I am on your side!" Sirius said in disbelief, not understanding how Harry couldn't see that.

"No!" Harry said forcefully. "If you were on my side, you wouldn't have asked me in the first place!"

"I'm doing this for you, Harry."

Harry abruptly turned and barrelled out, leaving Sirius in the den fuming. "Don't you walk away from me," he demanded as he followed him.

"Harry!" he hissed as his godson ascended the staircase, ignoring his words. Sirius swore loudly and stalked back into the den, kicking himself for allowing Harry to lose his temper. He slumped down onto the couch where minutes ago they had sat together, wondering how the conversation had gotten out of hand so quickly. He sighed loudly as he realised this had been his first fight with his godson.

"It didn't go well, then?" came Remus' concerned voice.

Sirius looked up at his friend and shook his head. "You were listening?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Of course I was listening, someone had to be ready to stun one of you if things got ugly."

Resting his head in his hands, Sirius rubbed his tired eyes. "He just doesn't understand."

"Can you blame him for not wanting to testify?"

Sirius shook his head, knowing that Remus was right. He groaned with frustration and rested his head in his hands, wondering whether or not he should try talking to Harry again. He had known things would not go back to normal, but he had been completely unprepared for the awkwardness and tension between him and his godson, and couldn't help but feel slightly unwanted. The more he tried to take care of Harry, to make sure that he was okay, the more Harry seemed to push him away.

"Come on," Remus said quietly. "We need your help downstairs."

Sirius rubbed his tired eyes as he remembered what was going on in the kitchen. He sighed deeply before he summoned to motivation to get up, his fight with Harry seemed to have drained him of all energy. He silently followed Remus through the dark house, his eyes scanning up the staircase that Harry had taken, almost expecting to see him waiting at the top. A low murmuring entered his ears as he entered the basement kitchen, it's occupants working tirelessly at their project.

"Good morning, Sirius," Kingsley said in his deep rumbling voice.

"Is it?" Sirius muttered darkly as he saw the object of everyone's attention. He stared into Harry's tired face, scrutinising every aspect as only he could.

"This chin is all wrong," he said sharply, his face remaining blank as Harry smiled.

'Wotcher," came Tonks' voice from Harry's mouth. "I knew something was off."

A low laugh went round the room as Tonks' looked at the picture of Harry that she held, experimenting to make the shape of her chin match Harry's.

"Do you think we can pull this off?" said Arthur, sitting at the kitchen table.

"Yes," Kingsley replied confidently. "Tonks has done this type of thing many times before."

"But deceiving the Wizengamont?" Arthur asked in awe. "Do you know the penalties for that?"

Sirius sat down at the long kitchen table, watching as Tonks perfected the shape of the cut along Harry's jaw. He knew that Harry would be furious when he found out that Tonks had impersonated him, but Sirius knew he could deal with that as long as Draco Malfoy went to prison. Despite this, Sirius breathed in nervously, his stomach turning at the thought of deceiving Harry like this.

"Have you been reading that statement?" Mad-Eye said from the corner of the room, referring to the large scroll of parchment that sat on the table. After subtly pulling a few strings, Kingsley had managed to obtain a copy of Draco Malfoys formal statement to the ministry, and it was proving crucial to Tonk's preparation.

"Yes, Mad-Eye," Tonks said in exasperation "I know it off by heart."

"When did Draco Malfoy first physically attack you?"

"Mad-Eye," Tonks said with a raised eyebrow, indicating the amount of people in the room.

"Don't get concerned with Potter's privacy now, Nymphadora," Mad-Eye chastised. "Because tomorrow morning you're going to be spilling it to a lot more people than who are present here."

Tonks grimaced, not liking the idea of what she was going to be doing. "It was when I had escaped from the Death Eaters," she explained, her tone telling Sirius she had said this more than once. "Malfoy tried to stun me, but I ran. He caught up to me at the river."

"What did he do then?" Kingsley drilled her, also determined to not screw this up.

"He attacked me, then held me under the water until he thought I was unconscious."

Sirius stood up and began bustling around with the kettle, not wanting to hear any more. He loud clunking told him that Mad-Eye was standing right behind him.

"How is he?" Sirius asked, turning around to face the aged Auror. "I know you can see him," Sirius added condescendingly as he saw Mad-Eye's raised eyebrow.

"He's fine," Mad-Eye replied immediately, his electric blue eye spinning towards the ceiling. "He's sitting on the bed, looking pretty mad."

Sirius folded his arms and leant against the bench and looked toward the ceiling, no longer interested in the tea he had intended to make.

"Leave him alone," Mad-Eye said, knowing what Sirius wanted to do. "The last thing he wants right now is conversation."

Sirius nodded in defeat, wishing there was something more he could do. He looked back towards Kingsley and Tonks, who was still being drilled with questions. Anger suddenly began swelling in his gut, and Sirius couldn't help but feel resentful towards the three Aurors in the room, who had done more to help Harry in the last two weeks, than he had ever done.

"So," Mad-Eye said, obviously trying to keep the conversation light. "Have you asked him about the prophecy yet?"

The mention of the prophecy sent Sirius' anger spiralling, and he fought to keep it under control. Ever since Harry admitted that he told Voldemort the prophecy, the Order had been hounding Sirius to find out for themselves. Sirius knew they couldn't ignore the fact that Voldemort knew and they didn't, but every mention of it made his stomach turn.

"Mad-Eye," Sirius said solidly, his anger showing easily. "Let me fight with him one subject at a time, would you?"

Sirius abruptly walked away from him, not wanting to get into another fight about the prophecy. "Would you rather I do it?" Mad-Eye threatened, causing Sirius to stop in his tracks and spin around.

"Alastor," Kingsley said in warning, knowing where this would go.

"Would you rather I do it?" Mad-Eye said again, drawing his wand. "I'm quite happy to extract the information!"

"Extract the information?" Sirius questioned loudly as he advanced towards Mad-Eye, knowing exactly what was being implied. "Are you listening to yourself? This is Harry, not some prisoner. Don't you touch him!"

"Somebody has to do it."

"Stay away from him!" Sirius threatened as he too drew his wand, the volume of his words increasing at an alarming rate. "Don't you dare touch his memories!"

"Stop it!" cried Arthur as he stepped between them, his face red with his own anger. "There have been enough fights without you two turning on each other again!"

"Somebody has to do something, Sirius," Mad-Eye said simply ignoring Arthurs words, the threat never leaving his voice. "If you won't do it, then I will."

Sirius bit back the argument that he was longing to give, knowing that it would only fuel the argument even further. It seemed to take all his strength to tear himself away from the scene, storming up the stairs to the first floor. Fury filled him as he thought of Mad-Eye's previous threat to forcibly remove Harry's memories, knowing that he would never let that happen. He stormed up the various staircases, slowing down as he reached Harry's floor.

His anger quelled and was replaced by nervousness as he saw the candlelight shining underneath Harry's door, and he wondered what he was going to say to him. He knew he wouldn't be bringing up the prophecy tonight, but wondered if he could apologise, if Harry would listen long enough to hear it.

His heart swelled as he reached for the door handle, hoping that everything would be okay once he apologised. His hope was suddenly quashed as the light beneath Harry's door vanished, and he knew that Harry didn't want him in there. Sirius stood there for a few more moments, contemplating the thought of still going in to talk to his godson.

In the end he walked away from Harry's door, leaving the boy to his own thoughts. He headed towards his own, condemning himself to another sleepless night. Still, he kept his door open as he climbed back into bed, never completely falling asleep that night, lest Harry should need him again.


	50. Chapter 50

It was late Tuesday afternoon as Harry, Ron and Hermione relaxed in the den, passing the time together before dinner as the wireless played. The aroma of the delicious stew Molly was cooking had wafted up from downstairs, making Harry's mouth water as he wished that he had enough appetite to enjoy it properly. There was little to be done about the intermittent nausea plaguing him day and night.

"Why are you so against this, Hermione?" Harry asked in exasperation, having been arguing with her for several days now.

"Voldemort would not have been that stupid," she argued, not looking up from her place on the floor where she was engrossed in yet another book.

"What is so stupid about hiding a Horcrux at Hogwarts?" Harry looked at Ron for support. He glanced up at Harry before quickly looking back at the chess board, not wanting to involve himself in the argument. He stroked his chin in concentration, taking longer than usual to consider his next move.

"Dumbledore would have found it," Hermione said with absolute certainty.

Harry repeated the argument that he had been reciting over and over again for the past few days, his exasperation building. "Dumbledore himself said he didn't know all of Hogwarts' secrets."

"But why would he chose Hogwarts, Harry?" Hermione said, finally looking up from her book. "Why his old school of all places?"

"Because it's the only place that ever meant anything to him," replied, forcing himself to keep his voice discreet. "It was his only home, why do you think he tried to get a job there straight after school?"

"This is You-Know-Who we're talking about right?" Ron enquired hesitantly as he finally made a move. "Not you?"

Harry glared at Ron, suddenly seized by the desire to throw a chess piece at him. "You're a great help, mate."

"I do my best," he muttered sheepishly, keeping his eyes on the board as he waited for Harry's move.

They fell silent, each of them caught up in their own thoughts. Harry hated the silence, as it seemed to be the time when his mind wandered to his imprisonment. He swallowed thickly and concentrated on the game in front of him, smiling as he finally took Ron's second knight. He looked at the side of the board that was littered with his own pieces, glad that he had this small triumph. He relaxed back into the couch as he waited for Ron to make his next move, and he briefly wondered how Draco Malfoys trial had gone that morning.

He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses as he thought of the fight he and Sirius had had in this same room the previous night. Harry's stomach seemed to squirm as he thought of the things he had said to his godfather, knowing that they would have hurt. He glanced down the corridor and wondered what Sirius was doing, wondering if he would be able to apologise. They had both remained scarce that morning and he had not seen his godfather until early that afternoon when they had both avoided each other.

"Hey! Ron said, grabbing their attention as he turned in his seat to face the wireless. "Listen to this!"

"No verdict has been handed down yet regarding the trial of Draco Malfoy, accused Death Eater. The Wizengamont is still deliberating in Ministry chambers where the trial was held this morning. Malfoy also stand accused of accessory to kidnap, attempted kidnap, assault and failure to report a crime, all relating to the kidnapping of Harry Potter who was released from Hospital last weekend. Potter today, was-"

Despite knowing he wasn't supposed to use magic, Harry flicked his wand at the wireless, changing the station before the newsreader could continue, not wanting to hear anything more about the trial. "Sorry," he muttered as he saw the disappointed faces of his friends.

"It's fine," they assured him, glancing at each other before going back to their tasks.

Harry sat up and considered the board before him as Ron made his move, frowning as he noticed his friend was definitely going to win. He sighed. He wished Ginny were here with him, rather than stuck in the kitchen peeling potato.

"There's something at Hogwarts," Harry said quietly, silently daring Hermione to argue with him. "I can feel it."

"Harry," she replied in frustration. "Where could he have possibly hid it?"

"Anywhere!" he replied, firmly believing what he was saying. "There are plenty of places he could have hidden it."

"Incoming," Ron coughed, cutting off Hermione's retort. They looked towards the corridor where the unmistakable sound of footsteps was coming from.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said, her hair electric blue today.

"Hey Tonks," the three teenagers chorused as she sat down next to Harry, observing the chess board.

"Oh!" she said in mock surprise. "You're losing again!"

Harry laughed and made his next move, knowing that Ron's tactics would soon overpower his own. He didn't blame his chess pieces as they yelled instructions at him, groaning when he completely ignored them.

"I have a hidden agenda here, Harry," said Tonks, pulling Harry from his thoughts as she produced a goblet he hadn't seen her bring in. "Molly sent me up with this."

"What is it?" Harry asked as he looked at the liquid contents of the goblet, trying to remember which of his potions he had forgotten to take.

"It's for the nausea," she replied simply, continuing as he raised his eyebrows at her. "Molly also said to not deny it. I'd say she wants you to have a decent meal for once.

Harry looked at the unknown potion, hesitant to take it. Understanding his reluctance Tonks gently pressed him to drink it, relieved when he did.

"Ugh," Harry said pulling a face. "That's disgusting."

"Yeah," Tonks agreed whole heartedly. "And it's supposed to cure nausea, not cause it."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully as she took the empty goblet.

"That's okay, how are you feeling?" she asked as she stood up.

"Fine," Harry stressed, wishing people would stop asking him. "I'm just fine."

"Okay," she said, satisfied with his answer. "Don't have too much fun," she added as she left.

"Hey Tonks," Harry called, catching her attention before she had gone too far.

"Yeah?" she said almost breathlessly as she turned around.

Harry hesitated before he asked his question, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. "How did the trial go?"

"It was okay," she said after considering her answer. "Malfoys defence put up a good fight, but so did our side."

"You don't think they'll release him?" Hermione said in concern. "Do you?"

"No!" Tonks scoffed. "Not with the evidence we gave."

Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand as she left, doubt creeping up inside of him as he thought of what she said. Mrs Weasleys potion did nothing to stall the nausea that seemed to rise inside of him at the thought of Malfoy being released, and he wondered why he didn't listen to Sirius, why he hadn't done something to make sure it didn't happen. He bit his lip as he wondered what had happened at the trial, suddenly wishing he had read the article about it in this afternoons prophet.

"It'll be fine, Harry," Hermione assured him as she got up from the floor, sitting beside him on the couch. She reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

"Yeah I know," he lied as he avoided her gaze, squeezing her hand back. He sighed as he wished he could talk to Sirius, hoping to apologise for the awful things he had said the night before. He released Hermione's hand and stood up.

"I'm going to find Sirius," he explained as his friends looked at him curiously. "I won't be long."

"It's fine," Ron said with a mischievous look on his face. "I can beat Hermione instead."

Hermione glared at Ron as Harry left, making him promise to take it easy on her. Harry smiled as he slowly ascended the staircase, knowing that Sirius would probably be in his room. The journey to the top floor seemed to take longer than usual as Harry contemplated what he would say. He eventually reached the top floor and made his way long the hall, approaching Sirius' door as his heart seemed to pound in his throat. He took a deep breath as he raised his hand, hesitating before he knocked loudly. He held as breath as Sirius called out, telling him to come in.

"Harry!" Sirius said in surprise, having not expected his godson to appear at his door so suddenly. He quickly closed the newspaper he was reading and sat up on the couch. "What is it?"

Harry hesitated before speaking. "Can we talk?"

Time seemed to stand still as Harry waited for his godfather to respond, his heart pounding unnecessarily fast.

"Yeah," Sirius responded as he threw the newspaper to the floor face down. "Come in," he invited as he sat up properly, making room on the couch.

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets as he slowly entered, wondering how he was going to start. He sat down on the couch with Sirius and bit the inside of his lip nervously, trying to collect the thoughts that were racing through his head.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, unable to look at Sirius.

"Don't," Sirius said firmly before Harry could continue speaking. Harry looked at him strangely as he opened his mouth to finish. "Please, don't apologise."

"I shouldn't have said what I did," Harry went on urgently, ignoring what Sirius said.

"Neither should I," Sirius replied as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "We both said things we shouldn't have, but please don't apologise."

Harry fell silent at his words and looked away, wishing he could sink into the floor beneath them. He pulled his legs onto the couch and crossed them, trying to think of something to say to break the silence. He could hear the steady rhythm of Sirius' breathing and he consciously felt his own heart rate begin to slow, no longer nervous about being here.

"Stop scratching it!" Sirius hissed suddenly, placing his hand firmly on Harry's arm. Startled, Harry looked down at his arm, realising he had yet again been scratching the sores around his wrist. He immediately stopped, allowing Sirius to pull his wrist towards himself and study the sores closely. "Are they hurting?"

Harry released the breath he was holding. "A bit," he replied awkwardly as Sirius took his other wrist, pulling back the sleeve on that one as well. Harry's throat and chest seemed to tighten as the two of them studied the sores on his wrists, remembering the coarse rope that had tightly bound his hands together. Against his will Harry's eyes began burning and he closed them briefly. He breathed in raggedly as he felt Sirius' hand move towards his hair, running his fingers through it. Opening his eyes again he looked towards the floor, avoiding Sirius' concerned gaze.

"It's finally hitting you, isn't it?" Sirius said, watching Harry closely.

Harry nodded, finally admitting what he had felt unable to say. He raised his free hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, stemming the tears that threatened to fall. Not fooled, Sirius moved closer to his godson, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulling him close. Harry sighed audibly, relaxing against his godfathers chest as he felt himself regaining his composure, no longer afraid that he was going to lose it completely.

"Last night must have freaked you out, right?"

"Yeah," Harry replied reluctantly. He had been avoiding the thought of his nightmare ever since it happened. "I guess it did."

They fell into silence, and Harry was glad that Sirius seemed to have given up on trying to make conversation. He was unsure of how long they remained there, Sirius' arm wrapped firmly around him, but he knew it was a while. He wondered if someone would come looking for them, and hoped they wouldn't, simply enjoying the solitude of just him and his godfather. He again thought of Ginny, wishing that they had been able to find a few minutes of privacy, but it seemed all the adults in the house were making sure that they had been unable. He shivered as he remembered his terror as Voldemort produced Ginny in front of him, remembering the torture she had been subjected to because of him. He thought of the brief kiss they had shared in the hospital, remembering how much it had assured him that she was alright.

"Sirius?" Harry said softly, getting his godfathers attention.

"Yeah, mate?" Sirius responded in concern, squeezing Harry's shoulder.

"How did they find me?" Harry asked, his curiosity aroused as he briefly thought of his imprisonment.

"Find you?" Sirius replied, not understanding.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "I mean, the death eaters didn't exactly tell you where I was."

Sirius laughed as he thought back to his conversations with Edward Proctor, trying to figure out where to start. "It was you, really," Sirius began honestly. "It was those messages you sent us."

Harry laughed softly. He had wondered if anything had come from his hard work. "I bet you thought I was nuts when you read them."

"Of course I did," Sirius confessed. "I thought you were losing it, everyone did. But I think one of the Aurors made the connection.

Harry smiled, suddenly glad that he and Sirius were talking as though little had happened in the past few weeks. "Well, I had nothing else to do with my time."

Sirius frowned and looked down at him, his face alight with confusion. "The Healers told me you were unconscious most of the time."

"Oh," Harry replied as he remembered a vivid flash of Snape covering his mouth and nose. Knowing that Sirius would keep asking, he continued awkwardly. "Well, I was, but they only started knocking me out after I had escaped."

Sirius nodded and began rubbing the top of Harry's arm, hoping that he wasn't pushing Harry too far. He didn't think he could stand fighting with Harry again, knowing how much it hurt when his godson blatantly rejected him. "How did they do it?" he asked softly, not missing it as Harry flinched openly.

"I-I don't want to talk about it," Harry replied tersely, releasing himself from Sirius' comforting embrace. He should have known where this conversation would end up going.

"Harry, it might help to ta-"

"Don't," Harry interrupted him. He sat up properly and faced away from his godfather, angry that he would bring this up now. "Just don't, please."

Relieved when Sirius didn't reply, Harry leant forward, resting his head in his hands as he tried to stop the memories resurfacing so fast. He remembered the agony of the swift kicks that landed on his face and chest, and could almost feel Snape's cold hand on his face as he forced the purple potion into his mouth. Sirius gently placed his hand on his back and he stood up abruptly, feeling the searing flash of pain across one of the wounds.

"Harry, just talk to me," Sirius pleaded, regretting that he pushed so hard. "Just tell me anything."

"This is why I wouldn't testify," Harry said as he turned around, his voice remaining level and strong. "I can't even talk to you."

"Oh God, Harry," Sirius mumbled, shame and guilt coursing through him as Harry mentioned the trial.

"No, just listen," Harry pleaded, wanting to make sure Sirius completely understood. He paused before continuing, trying to rationalise the jumble of words inside his head. "Compared to what the rest of them did, Malfoy barely touched me. He barely laid a hand on me, but the last thing I want to do is talk about it. The last thing I want is for the whole world to know what he did to me."

Sirius stood up and approached Harry, knowing that it was too late, wondering if Harry would forgive him for his betrayal. "Harry, I-I don't know what to say."

"I don't care what you say," Harry replied, his voice catching in his throat as Sirius stood before him. "Just don't ask me to talk about it."

Against his better judgement Sirius nodded. He pulled Harry to his chest again, relieved when Harry immediately returned the embrace. Sirius' heart seemed to have froze in his chest as Harry revealed how much he was hurting, and he tried desperately to think of some way that he could spare Harry from the pain that would surely come when he eventually saw the front cover of the evening prophet.

Finding a few minutes of blessed solitude later that night, Harry relaxed in the den, half heartedly looking through Ron's Quidditch magazine. Tired after what seemed a long day Harry put down the magazine and stretched out along the couch. He elongated his tired body as he ignored the still aching pain he felt in his wounds. He sunk further into the couch and rubbed his tired eyes, picking the magazine back up.

He flicked to the article about the Canon's latest loss, studying the moving pictures closely. The flashes of brilliant orange sent his mind flying straight to Ginny and he smiled. He remembered the mischievous grin on her face during dinner as she allowed him to subtly move his hand up her thigh beneath the table. It had been hard work keeping the grin off of his face as he did so, and even harder to not squirm in surprise as her hand found his own leg. He knew their antics would have continued had it not been for Hermione's swift kick beneath the table, indicating that Mad-Eye was closely watching them. They had both blushed as they were caught, their hands immediately coming back into full view as Mad-Eye glared at them in disapproval.

Hearing footsteps, Harry looked up from the magazine and hoped nobody was coming in, enjoying the solitude. He relaxed again as the footsteps died away, thankful that it wasn't Mad-Eye coming in to talk to him. Harry had been avoiding him since dinner, not liking the looks he had been receiving from the old auror. After eavesdropping on a conversation between Sirius and Remus, Harry knew that the Order was keen to gain the full contents of the prophecy, and he knew Mad-Eye would be the one pushing Harry to tell them. He knew someone would be soon asking him to explain the contents of the prophecy, so he had tried to think of any way to keep it secret. He didn't put it past Mad-Eye to force it out of him.

Harry lay the magazine down on his chest and raised his arm above him, pulling back the sleeve to study the tattoo that resided there. He was relieved that it had stopped hurting, and had wondered if it would ever unexpectedly begin burning as Voldemort summoned his death eaters. The thought alone made him feel sick. Pulling his sleeve back down to cover the mark Harry moved his hand to the base of his neck, tracing the black line of stitches that could be seen beneath his shirt. Despite the long sleeves he wore, he had been unable to cover either of the wounds that afflicted his neck and face. He experimentally tugged on one of the stitches, almost disappointed as it barely hurt. Nearly groaning with the effort, Harry sat up on the couch, feeling every single bruise that still resided on his torso. Mrs Weasley had of course removed all of his visible bruises, but Harry had been unable to bear the thought of revealing the colourful array of bruises that remained. He was glad that Madam Pomfrey was visiting the following morning to check on his wounds.

No long bothered with pursuing the latest Quidditch scores, Harry closed the magazine in his lap. He closed his eyes for a moment and wished that he were able to fly, despite knowing that most of the adults around him would have a heart attack if he so much as looked at his Firebolt. He thought of how easily he might fall asleep on the couch, and was suddenly roused at the thought of the previous night's dream, dreading the thought of what may come this night.

"Hey," Hermione said grumpily as she entered the den, startling Harry who hadn't heard her approach.

"Hi," Harry replied as his heart returned to its regular place in his chest. Looking at his friend, he immediately noticed something was wrong. "What is it?"

"Ron," she replied simply as she gratefully sat down on the other end of the couch. She muttered a string of curses that Harry had not expected her to say before she continued. "Merlin, he bothers me so much!"

"What's he done?" Harry said supportively, pulling his legs up to the couch, resting them beside him.

Hermione seemed to scoff at his words, shaking her head. "He's lost his keeper gloves. He's been tearing through my and Ginny's room for the last ten minutes, certain that we of all people have taken them."

"Why is he looking for his keeper gloves?" Harry asked in confusion.

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at him skeptically. "Does it look like I would know? I tried to tell him they're probably at the Burrow, but he insisted he brought them."

"He'll find them," Harry said in support, trying to quell the impending argument between his two friends.

"Well he finally left, muttering something about poor Kreacher."

"Wouldn't surprise me if that little creep had them," Harry muttered darkly.

"Honestly," Hermione scoffed, having not heard Harry's words.

Harry laughed and quickly changed the topic, trying to avoid another discussion about Elf rights. He was glad things hadn't seemed to have changed between he and Hermione, and he studied her closely as they talked, knowing that out of the four of them, she was the only one who had not been directly involved in his kidnapping. He knew she would feel immensely relieved that she wasn't involved, but wondered if she had felt strangely left out, the only one of his friends that the Death Eaters hadn't felt it necessary to target. Harry rolled his eyes internally, wondering how on earth he could be thinking like that.

"By the way, Harry," Hermione said, her tone almost sounding hesitant. "I meant to say something before, but I guess I just didn't find the right time."

"What is it?" Harry said, looking up from the magazine he had begun pursuing again.

Hermione paused before speaking, obviously taking time to chose her words. "Well, I wanted to say, it was very brave what you did today. I know it can't have been easy, but many people are very proud of you. I think your parents would be proud of you also."

"For what?" Harry asked, frowning at her curiously. "For apologising to Sirius? Because in that case, I would have hoped my parents were on my side too."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione said slowly.

"What are _you _talking about?" Harry retorted.

Hermione looked extremely uncomfortable for a brief moment, wishing she hadn't said anything in the first place. "I mean at the trial. It can't have been easy for you," she clarified.

Harry closed the magazine and stared at her, suspicion aroused inside of him at her mention of the trial.

"Of course," Hermione continued, not noticing Harry's suspicion and confusion. "I wish you'd come to us, we might have been able to help you. Not even Ginny knew you were going to do it."

"Going to do what?" Harry said darkly, leaning towards her. "Do what, Hermione?"

Hermione stared at him, not realising why he didn't understand what she was saying. "What you said this morning," she explained patiently. "What you told the Wizengamont at the trial, it can't have been easy for you."

Harry turned away from her and stood up, trying to process what she was saying. He turned around and looked at her incredulously, intent on challenging what she had said. "Hermione, I didn't go to the trial. I've been here all day."

"Don't be daft, Harry," Hermione replied as she too stood up, her own confusion spreading. "Your picture was in this evenings Prophet. They're practically raving that your testimony is going to put Malfoy in Azkaban for sure."

"What?" Harry started, horror creeping up inside of him at her words. "Where is it? The Prophet, where is it?"

Suddenly realising that she had said too much Hermione pulled out her wand and summoned the evenings prophet, sending the rolled up newspaper soaring through the house towards them. Harry reached out his hand and expertly grabbed it as it soared towards Hermione, unrolling it as quickly as he could.

He stared at the front page in horror, and true to Hermione's word it bore a front page picture of himself. The headline declared his testimony at the trial.

"What the hell," Harry muttered in shock as he smoothed out the creases, watching as the picture of himself spoke to the crowded courtroom that he knew all too well. He felt sick to his stomach as he realised the imposter was even wearing his own clothing.

"Harry," Hermione said kindly, placing her hand on his arm. "Surely you knew that there would be reporters."

Harry said nothing as he quickly read the article, which detailed the intimate testimony he had supposedly given. He remained frozen to the spot, his hands clenched the paper tighter and tighter as he continued reading, the details of the testimony rendering him completely immobile. He had to find Sirius, he had to figure out what had happened, who had betrayed him like this.

Ignoring Hermione's words of concern Harry turned and marched out of the room, immediately heading for the kitchen where he hoped Sirius was. He could hear Hermione following him, and he clenched the newspaper in his hand as he tried to control his breathing, wanting to keep his temper for as long as he could. Not bothering to knock Harry opened the kitchen door and swiftly descended the staircase, casting his eyes around the room for his godfather.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked the room at large.

Mrs Weasley raised her head from her tea cup and looked at him curiously. "I'm not sure dear, I'd say he's upstairs."

"What is it, Harry?" Remus asked quietly, sensing that something was wrong.

"Who did this?" he demanded as he slapped the newspaper onto the table, looking from Remus to Mad-Eye and Kingsley who sat on the other side of the table. The kitchen was rendered completely silent as Harry waited for someone to answer him. Nobody moved an inch.

"Don't pretend you don't know," Harry said lowly, glaring at Kingsley and Mad-Eye. "Tell me who did this."

Remus sighed and put his head into his hands. His actions told Harry immediately who was responsible. "Remus? Did you know?" Harry asked in horror, taking a step back from him.

"Harry," Kingsley reasoned before Remus could answer. He moved around the kitchen table. "You must understand, we couldn't just do nothing."

"What did you do?" Harry accused loudly, not bothering to keep his temper any longer. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as his heart pounded erratically, righteous anger filling him completely. He stepped towards Kingsley, not caring that he towered over him. "What did you do?" he asked again.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked quietly, not understanding why Harry seemed so upset.

"You left us with no choice, Potter," Mad-Eye said, ignoring Hermione as he too stood up, moving around the table towards him. "We had to do something, and Nymphadora kindly offered us her services."

"Tonks?" Harry said incredulously, his head spinning in disbelief. His mind raced back to that afternoon when he and Tonks had spoken, hardly believing that she had anything to do with this. "She knew?"

"Knew?" Mad-Eye scoffed. Fury filled Harry as he saw that Mad-Eye almost looked pleased with himself. "She more than knew, it was her idea! Unlike you, she understood that something had to be done."

"Wait," Harry said breathlessly. He looked from person to person, ignoring Mrs Weasleys tearful face. He looked directly at Remus, who alone still remained seated, and asked the burning question. "Did Sirius know?"

Remus exhaled nervously, as though delaying his answer would cause Harry less pain. His hesitation was the only answer that Harry needed. He backed away from the three men and marched up the staircase, ignoring the pleading from Hermione to wait. Remus had to be wrong, there was no way Sirius would have let them do this to him. Harry all but ran up each flight of stairs, determined for Sirius to deny that he had known, determined to know that his godfather hadn't betrayed him.

He knew he was being followed, and he ignored to incessant pleading of Remus as he pushed past Mr Weasley who was coming down the stairs. Every step he took towards the top floor his heart seemed to pound harder, his desperation increasing more and more. He reached the top floor and saw the light shining beneath Sirius' door, reassuring Harry that he was inside. Not slowing down, he pushed the door open with a loud bang, startling Sirius who rummaged through a chest of drawers.

"Harry?" Sirius said in concern as he quickly looked up. "What's wrong?"

"Tell me it's not true!" Harry demanded as he entered the room, his voice catching in his throat as he continued. "Sirius, please, tell me it's not true!"

"Oh, Harry," Sirius said softly, realising what he meant. Remus appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath as Sirius moved closer to Harry.

"Sirius, please," Harry whispered, fearing the response he would get. "Please tell me you didn't know."

Sirius looked at him sadly, steeling himself for what he was going to say. "I knew," he confessed.

Harry turned away and covered his mouth, stifling the sob of agony that threatened to get out. He sank down into the couch behind him, not missing the irony that it was the same couch he and Sirius had shared only hours before. Burying his face in his hands, he tried to comprehend what was happening, how such an average evening had suddenly gone so wrong. Distantly, he heard Sirius asking Remus and Hermione to give them some privacy, but his mind was elsewhere, trying to convince himself that everything was okay, that what Sirius did was forgivable. Sensing Sirius as he knelt in front of him Harry forced himself to remain composed, raising his head to look at Sirius.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Sirius began, trying to find the words to express his regret. His heart clenched as he watched Harry in so much pain, knowing that he could have stopped it if he had just put his foot down. "But you have to understand-"

"Is this," Harry began uncertainly. "Is this why you wouldn't let me apologise?"

Sirius' face fell. "What?"

"Oh, my god," Harry said in dismay as he stood up, pushing past Sirius. He crossed to the other side of the room, righteous anger consuming him again. "This is why you wouldn't let me apologise! You had already done this!"

"Harry, listen to me."

"How could you do this to me?" Harry demanded, not listening to what Sirius was saying. "After what I said last night!"

"We couldn't let Malfoy go free," Sirius stated simply, hoping to quell his godsons rising anger.

"Is that all you cared about?" Harry challenged as he took a step toward his godfather. "You care more about him, than me?"

"You know that's not true," Sirius said in panic. Didn't Harry know how much he loved him? "We couldn't let him get back to Voldemort."

Harry laughed shortly. "You honestly thought he'd make it back to Voldemort? Alive?"

Sirius closed his eyes as though in pain, turning away so that he didn't have to face Harry. "I will do whatever I have to, to protect you."

"From Draco Malfoy?" Harry spat condescendingly. "The only person who needs protection from him is himself! You really think he's a threat?"

Sirius turned around. "Like I said," he began, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I will do whatever it takes."

"Keep your hands off me!" Harry spat as he pushed Sirius' hand away. He backed away from him and turned, ignoring the look of sadness and guilt on his godfathers face. "I cannot believe you did this to me," Harry spoke solidly to the wall. "I thought I could trust you."

"Harry, you can trust me." Sirius moved towards Harry, placing his hands firmly on the top of his arms.

Harry spun around on the spot furiously, knocking Sirius' hands off of him again. "Keep your hands off me!" Harry repeated angrily. "You're not even listening to me!"

Sirius clenched his jaw shut, forcing himself to not respond. He looked at a spot above Harry's left shoulder, avoiding having to look into his eyes as he spoke quietly. "We didn't have a choice."

Harry laughed shortly and shook his head, not believing that Sirius was back to that defense. He walked past him towards the door as he replied scathingly. "Don't preach to me about not having a choice, until you've spent eleven days with Voldemort."

"That's enough, Potter," Mad-Eye said firmly, appearing in the doorway. Harry glared at him, opening his mouth to retort, cut off as Sirius interrupted him.

"Mad-Eye, stay out of this!"

"No," he replied firmly, stepping into the room as Kingsley followed him. "He has to understand."

"I understand enough!" Harry retorted, his heart suddenly pounding even faster as Mad-Eye and Kingsley moved further into the room. When had this room become so small?

"If Dumbledore had asked you to do this, you would have," Mad-Eye continued. "So why such the fuss?"

Harry laughed at him. "Oh, Mad-Eye," he started condescendingly. "You are far from the leader that Dumbledore ever was."

"Perhaps I am," Mad-Eye responded as he raised his hands into the air, Harry's words having little impact on him. "But at least I was enough of a man to do something about Malfoy. Now we've got him!"

"Got him for what?" Harry demanded. "What use do you think he'll serve to the Order? What information could he possibly know?"

"Well for a start," Mad-Eye replied, his scarred face twisted into a smile. "I'm sure he heard the prophecy."

The room fell silent for a moment as Mad-Eyes words sunk in. "Get out!" Sirius demanded, moving towards Mad-Eye. "I told you to drop it!"

"We need that prophecy, Potter," Mad-Eye continued as though Sirius hadn't spoken. "And you know exactly what it is."

"Alastor," Kingsley warned. "That's enough."

Harry stood rooted to the spot, momentarily unable to form words in his mouth as Mad-Eye came closer and closer, ignoring the words of anyone else.

"I'm not telling you," Harry replied stubbornly, feigning confidence. His eyes darted from person to person, watching as Sirius glanced towards him, his eyes blazing with determination.

"Oh, yes you will, and if you don't hurry up, you won't have a choice anymore."

"That's enough!" Sirius said furiously. He withdrew his wand quickly cast a shield charm in front of Harry, preventing Mad-Eye from moving any closer. "I've already told you to stay away from him. I won't say it again."

Mad-Eye glared at Harry, easily intimidating him. Harry's heart seemed to have frozen and he held his breath, Mad-Eye's threat racing through his mind. Staring back at him, Harry's eyes were full of fear. When had Mad-Eye become this person?

Mad-Eye smiled again, his blue eye revolving inside his head. "What is it, Nymphadora?" he asked before Tonks appeared in the doorway behind Kingsley. Tonks was rendered speechless as she observed the scene before her, the hostility clearly evident.

"What is it, Tonks?" Kingsley asked quietly.

Tonks quickly composed herself, a look of intense worry overtaking her warm features. "It's Malfoy," she said simply. "The Wizengamont found him 'not guilty' by reason of coercion."

Mad-Eye swore loudly and turned away. Harry gasped silently, hardly believing what Tonks had said. "Not guilty?" he questioned in shock.

Tonks looked at him and nodded. "He'll probably be released tomorrow afternoon."

A sickening horror had spread through Harry. He didn't think it would ever actually come to this, he had never properly considered what it would mean if Malfoy was released. He drew in a deep controlled breath as he tried to stem the nausea that suddenly rose up inside of his, the colour draining from his face.

"There's still time," Kingsley said in a rush as the three aurors quickly left. "We can talk to Corey, launch an appeal."

The room was suddenly empty, only Sirius and Harry remained. Harry glanced at his godfather who stood rooted to the spot, his own nightmare unfurling inside of him. Sirius looked up and caught his eye, the guilt he felt about the betrayal intensified at the news they had received.

"Harry, I-"

"Don't," Harry replied, his voice so quiet he was surprised Sirius heard it. He looked away from him as he tried to collect his thoughts, tried to keep his composure. He walked towards the door without a backward glance. "Just, don't."

The immense pressure was lifted as he hastily descended the dark staircase and he breathed in deeply, the oxygen sending his head spinning. He stopped and leant against the wall as dizziness overcame him, making his stomach turn uncomfortably. Clutching his stomach he pushed himself away from the wall, heading for the closest bathroom. Once inside he turned on the light and closed the door, relieved that he was finally alone again.

His stomach turned once again and he moved towards the sink, leaning on the bench as he closed his eyes, willing the nausea to pass. Gripping the bench tightly he swayed a little, trying to stop the memories that invaded his head. He could hear Malfoy calling out for him in the forest, and could feel the scratch of the branches as he dashed through them. He shivered as he remembered the icy cold water of the stream he concealed himself in, the water rushing over him as Draco Malfoy stood mere feet away from him.

Harry opened his eyes to remind himself of where he was. Shaking, he looked into the mirror and for one fleeting moment he saw Malfoy standing behind him. He spun around ready to defend himself before he realised his mistake, his heart pounding and adrenaline pumping. He coughed ominously and clutched his stomach, hastily rushing to the toilet and lifting the lid. Trying to hold everything back, Harry closed his mouth and tightened his throat but was unable to control his body, feeling almost instant relief as he vomited. Harry barely flinched as he felt a hand gently rubbing his back, soothing him as he coughed violently, his throat burning as his companion gently wiped his mouth with a wad of toilet paper.

Harry sighed with relief as he leant back on his heels, looking up at the person beside him. Remus' presence momentarily threw him, as he had been expecting Sirius, but he found that he didn't care the slightest, only wishing that Remus hadn't bothered.

"Better?" Remus asked kindly as he closed the toilet lid, vanishing the contents. Harry nodded slowly as he looked away from him, relieved as Remus cast a cleansing charm over his mouth. He swallowed thickly and was glad not to taste any remaining acid in his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, deeply ashamed.

"Don't be," Remus replied firmly. He watched Harry sadly, glad that Sirius had sent him after him. He continued rubbing Harry's back, mindful of the wounds that he knew were present. Harry seemed to relax under his touch, and was no longer shaking. They say together on the bathroom floor for a few minutes, Remus patiently waiting for Harry to calm down long enough before he spoke again. He grasped Harry's shaking hand and squeezed firmly, satisfied when Harry squeezed back.

"Harry, I need you to listen to me. Just listen," he said gently, knowing that Harry would. "Look at me, please."

Harry sighed and reluctantly raised his head, looking him in the eye as Remus spoke sadly. "What we did to you, was very wrong." Harry released a shuddering breath as he forced himself to maintain eye contact. "But, do you understand why we did it?"

"God," Harry muttered as he looked away.

"Harry, stop," Remus said firmly, wanting Harry to answer him properly. "Look at me again."

Harry stared at the tiles, wishing that Remus would leave, that he would get the hint. When Remus didn't continue Harry knew he was waiting for him and he looked up again, doing his best to keep the anger and frustration off his face.

"I know it's hard, Harry," Remus said, looking into his pale face. "But do you understand why we did it?"

Harry didn't respond for a moment, his brain seemed to be working too fast for his body. He clenched his jaw and slowly nodded, finally looking away again.

Satisfied with his answer Remus sighed with relief, smiling slightly. "You shouldn't blame Sirius. He tried to stop them, he really did. Since Dumbledore died, all the decisions have been made by a vote, and this time, the majority of the Order ruled against Sirius.

"What are you telling me this?" Harry asked quietly.

Remus took his hand from Harry's back and clasped both of their hands together comfortingly. "Because you need to understand. Sirius didn't want this."

Feeling his composure slipping away from him alarmingly fast Harry kept his eyes on the floor, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and the prickling behind his eyes. He breathed out slowly and clenched his jaw shut again as Remus continued speaking.

"Sirius is on your side," he said imperatively. "He loves you very much, and he does listen to what you say."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Remus' words had finished him off and he could no longer hold back. "Dammit," he sobbed as tears feel unwillingly from his eyes. He pulled his hand from Remus' tight grasp to wipe them away, barely noticing as Remus pulled him to his chest just as Sirius had the night before.

"It's alright," Remus soothed as he resumed rubbing Harry's back. Harry bit his lip hard, trying to contain himself as much as he could. Despite what Remus had done for him that night, Harry couldn't help but wish that it were Sirius with him instead.


	51. Chapter 51

It was nearing eleven-thirty, and Harry was exhausted as he pulled his tee-shirt over his head, grimacing at the pain the movement caused. Avoiding the sight of his torso he quickly pulled on an old long sleeved shirt, thankful that Madam Pomfrey was stopping by the following afternoon, and that he might be able to hold Ginny as close to him as he desired without the lingering threat of a sharp sting.

Sitting cross legged on the bed Harry leant over the daily prophet that he had been pursuing, wanting to know exactly what had happened that morning. He opened to the second page and observed the moving photograph of Draco Malfoy, glad to see that he almost looked as bad as himself, ironically his wrists were bound to the chair he sat in as Harry's had been behind his back. As Harry looked through the long and detailed article, he wondered how the Wizengamont had opted to release him, considering the strong arguments that had been put against it. Knowing Lucius Malfoy though, he'd say it was only a few well placed Imperious curses that kept Draco Malfoy from Azkaban.

A soft knock at the door swiftly pulled Harry from his thoughts. "Come in," he replied cautiously. He hoped that it wasn't Sirius. He had had enough frustration and anger for one day.

"Just me," Ginny said as she quickly slipped into his room, bringing a smile to Harry's face as she silently locked the door behind her. "I wanted to say goodnight before Mum does another inspection."

"Hmm," Harry murmured as she approached the bed with a mischievous smile, not at all bothered or annoyed by her presence.

Moving the newspaper to the side Ginny sat in front of him, and Harry wasted no time in pressing her lips to his own, sweet relief filling him at the knowledge they were finally alone together. Returning his kiss, Ginny gently placed her hands on his shoulders before slowly pulling away, grinning at him.

"Goodnight," she said coyly, smiling at the look on his face.

"Is that it?" Harry replied as he kissed her again, a smile playing on his mouth. She sighed against his lips, their kiss deepening as Harry wasted no time in slipping his hand up the back of her shirt, rubbing back and forth across her lower back. She gasped in surprise, moving closer to him as she felt her heart rate increasing.

Pulling away Harry smiled as he saw her flushed complexion. "This is payback," he stated before kissing her chastely.

"For what?" Ginny asked in dismay, shuffling closer to him yet again.

"For what you did at dinner," he replied, grinning as he moved his hand further up her back, his fingers splaying across the strap of her bra.

"Hmmm," she murmured, remembering his startled reaction as her hand had found his leg beneath the dinner table while his did the same to hers. "You practically jumped a mile."

She kissed him again, lingering longer than necessary. "Tease," he muttered against her lips.

"In all fairness, you started it."

"Did not!"

"Your hand was on my leg long before mine was on yours."

"It's not my fault," Harry replied as he ran his fingers through her loose hair, revelling in the different shades of red he found, suddenly realising she was practically sitting in his lap. He kissed her again. "You licked your lips."

"I was eating dinner!" she said defensively, her eyes widening as Harry's other hand found the back of her thigh, firmly rubbing it up and down.

"You licked your lips," Harry repeated. "I can't be held responsible for my actions after watching that." As though trying to emphasise what he was saying he kissed her again, subtly running his tongue along her bottom lip and smiling after he felt her breath hitch. Whether it was because of his kiss or the hand that seemed to be inching closer and closer to her buttocks, Harry was unsure, but found he really didn't care which it was. He grinned again. Removing his hand from beneath her shirt he leant back on it, looking at her as she bit her lip.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied softly, realising that this was the most he had smiled in weeks. He glanced down at the bottom of her shirt and sat up again, distracting her with a kiss as he lifted the hem. Pulling away from her he quickly ducked his head down and glanced at her stomach, smiling in satisfaction.

"What?" Ginny asked again as her blush darkened, fighting to keep her own grin off her face.

"Nothing," Harry repeated as he kissed her yet again. "Just seeing how far down the blush goes."

She gasped in surprise. "And you call me a tease!"

"You _are_ a tease." His hand hooked beneath her thigh Harry held her close, kissing her deeply before she could reply. How long they spent together he didn't know, losing track of time as Ginny's hands tentatively wrapped around his back, gently holding him close. Before they knew it they lay side by side across the bed, the discarded prophet crumpled beneath them carelessly. Breathing heavily, Harry broke their kiss, holding her close.

"My heart is pounding," Ginny confessed breathlessly as she grasped his hand, pressing his palm firmly against the centre of her chest. "Can you feel it?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered as he felt her rapid heartbeat, the position of his hand doing nothing to relieve his laboured breathing. "Is that necessarily a bad thing though? Consider the alternative."

Ginny smirked. "I've definitely got you rattled."

Harry nodded, moving his hand from her chest to her hair before the temptation to move it elsewhere became too much. Brushing her hair off her face, he wanted to say something. He wanted her to know how sorry he was for what happened, what she meant to him, but he couldn't seem to find the words, his brain seemed frozen as he tried to process his thoughts into words.

Oblivious to his struggle Ginny propped herself up on her elbow, her face full of sadness and worry as she confidently reached for his face, tracing the line of stitches along his jaw. "Do they hurt?"

"No," Harry muttered, feeling strangely self conscious as her hand wandered down his chin to the line of stitches at the base of his neck, his shirt not covering them.

They lay there in silence for a few moments, the ease of their conversation and the excitement of their kisses fading fast. Even though he was no longer alone Harry found that his thoughts quickly turned back to Draco Malfoy, worrying incessantly despite the fact that he wouldn't be able to come near any of them, let alone himself. He wondered if Malfoy had heard the verdict yet, or if he was still waiting in his cell, oblivious to his imminent release the following afternoon. Harry sat up and carefully pulled the crumpled newspaper from underneath Ginny's foot. He stared at the photograph of Malfoy as though mesmerized, confused thoughts racing through his head. Noticing the worry on his face Ginny sat up properly, squeezing his hand.

"What's on your mind?" Ginny asked intuitively, not seeing what held her boyfriends attention so well.

Harry scratched his stitches unconsciously, not prepared for the question. His mouth had already opened to assure her that he was fine, before quickly stopping himself, knowing that answer would not be good enough for her.

"Did you see him?" Harry asked curiously. "When you were there I mean."

Ginny shook her head, realising who he was talking about. "I had no idea who was there. It was bit of a blur really"

Harry sighed and looked back to the newspaper, wondering what he was going to say. The confusion he felt regarding Malfoy seemed to be constantly pressing in on him, always in the back of his mind whenever he tried to avoid the thought of it. "I kind of feel bad for him," Harry reluctantly confessed, afraid of her reaction.

"Why?" Ginny asked in wonder, keeping the shock from her voice. "Why would you feel bad for him?"

"I dunno," Harry sighed as he briefly covered his face with his hands. He wished he hadn't said anything. "Sometimes when I was there, it was like he didn't want this either."

Ginny said nothing, not entirely sure of how to reply to Harry's confession. "Sorry," he muttered as he raised his head, looking into her concerned eyes as she squeezed his hand comfortingly. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," she replied truthfully. "It's okay to talk about him."

"I _don't _want to talk about him," Harry said lowly, his tone telling her to quickly drop the subject.

"Then we won't," Ginny replied, gently kissing him. "Whatever you want."

Grateful that she was no longer pursuing the topic, Harry lay back down on the bed, pulling her down and into his arms. As she rested her head on his shoulder she lay he arm across his torso and reached for his hair, sending a pleasant chill down his spine as she ran her fingers through it repeatedly. Tired now, he closed his eyes and relaxed his body in a feeble attempt to stop thinking. No matter how hard he tried he still couldn't pull his thoughts away from Malfoy. He wondered if he was sorry for the part he had played, or if he would run straight back to Voldemort's reign the moment he was released. He glanced towards the edge of the bed, his attention again fixated on the crumpled newspaper that lay there. Staring at the paper, he was unsure of what to think, of what to anticipate. Pursuing the Horcruxes would certainly bring Harry back to Hogwarts, he was sure of that, but was unsure of what it would mean for the both of them if Draco Malfoy also returned.

The more he thought about him, the more his blurred memories of the whole ordeal became clearer. He could feel the agony that Malfoy subjected him to as he held him under water, and it almost seemed as impossible for him to breath now as it had then. Sudden bursts and flashes of his memories had been appearing before his eyes ever since he had found out the truth about the trial. His hand made a fist beside him, his bruised fingers momentarily turning white. He was glad that he had refused to testify at the trial, he knew he wouldn't have been able to do it.

Relaxing his clenched fist Harry glanced back toward Ginny, finally unable to stand the silence. "He just…I don't know what to think," Harry began uncertainly. "What are we supposed to do if he goes back to Hogwarts?"

"I highly doubt he'll do that," Ginny reasoned, her hand never leaving his hair. "Most of the school would hate him by now."

"But what if he does?" Harry insisted. "He'd be in my classes again. But even if he doesn't come back, I'm still going to run into him eventually. What am I supposed to do?"

"What are you supposed to do when?"

"When I see him next." Harry hesitated before continuing; hardly believing that he was saying these things to Ginny. "Do I just act like nothing happened? Are we supposed to just go back to childish insults and fights? Too much has happened for us to just go back to that."

"You don't have to see him. You don't have to talk to him at all. We'll keep him away from you, away from all of us."

"Ron won't stay away from him," Harry said with certainty. "He'll lose it if he ever sees him again."

"Ron," Ginny replied with a smirk, removing her hand from her hair. "Will do exactly as I tell him. Unless he wants to end up on the receiving end of my temper."

Harry smiled weakly, wondering how he had gotten so damn lucky to have her. He kissed her again as he thought about how she always managed to say the right things, how she always managed to put things into perspective for him, at least a little bit anyway.

"What was that for?" she whispered against his lips as they broke the kiss.

"No reason," Harry replied as he brushed the hair out of her face.

He moved his hand into her long hair as he kissed her again, trying to block out any further thoughts of Malfoy. Their kiss deepened and he again wanted to say something to her, but wasn't quite sure what. His brain seemed to be paralysed as he tried to figure out how to tell her how sorry he was, how much she mattered to him, but he seemed capable of nothing except for thinking of how beautiful she was, and the way she was incessantly pulling him closer. His head spinning, Harry forced himself to break the kiss, smiling at her goofily. Not settling for that Ginny allowed him a moment to clear his head before kissing him again enthusiastically, thoroughly enjoying their time alone together.

A loud knock resonated through the room as Harry sat bolt upright, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. Ginny too sat up quickly, her eyes wide and hair askew as they both looked towards the bedroom door, praying that it was only Hermione.

"Harry? It's Sirius, may I come in?"

Ginny cursed under her breath. "I'm supposed to be in bed!" she whispered hastily, her hand gripping his tightly.

Harry swore under his breath, cursing their bad luck. He glanced at Ginny's nervous expression and then back at the door, as though hoping that Sirius would give up.

"Harry, I know you're in there." The door knob rattled impatiently and Harry was glad that Ginny had locked it.

Harry's good mood quickly depleted immediately at the prospect of having to talk to his godfather. It was the last thing he wanted to do, especially considering the day's events, but he looked at Ginny and knew he had to. The only thing worse than talking to Sirius would be Mrs Weasley's reaction when she found out her teenage daughter had snuck into her boyfriend's bedroom late at night.

"Hide!" Harry whispered desperately, knowing that Sirius wouldn't wait long.

"Where?" Ginny hissed back at him as she looked around the room, not seeing anywhere that she could hide.

"Harry! Unlock this door right now! This isn't funny."

"Coming!" Harry called out as he stood up, stalling for time. "Under the bed. Hurry!"

Watching nervously as Ginny scrambled underneath the bed, Harry approached the door as Sirius knocked again. He made sure she wasn't visible before taking hold of the door knob.

"Harry, if you don't open this door right now I'm going to-"

Harry quickly swung the door open, startling Sirius who stood outside with his wand clenched tightly in his hand, his mouth still forming the threat he had begun to make. There was an awkward silence as the two of them stared at each other.

"Hi," Sirius said in relief, looking Harry up and down as though checking for injuries.

"Hi," Harry replied bluntly, hoping that he would go away.

There was another awkward silence as the two men stood before each other, neither of them sure of what to say.

"Can I come in?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, seriously considering telling his godfather that he couldn't, but for some reason found himself nodding. He turned away from the door and walked back to the bed, sitting down gently and looking at the wall.

"Are you feeling alright?" Sirius asked in concern. Harry didn't reply, hoping that Sirius would remember how much he loathed being asked that question. "You just look a bit flushed, that's all."

"What is it?" Harry asked, not caring that he sounded rude. Sirius sat down on the bed in front of him, forcing him to make eye contact.

Sirius took a deep breath before explaining. "I want to apologise to you."

"Don't bother," he replied stiffly, looking away.

"What we did to you was wrong," Sirius continued as though Harry hadn't spoken. "But you have to understand why we did it."

Harry didn't respond, he was sick of listening to Sirius' excuses, sick of listening to everyone trying to justify their actions. "I don't want to hear your excuses."

"Well, you're going to. What I said before is true, I did do this to protect you. I don't want that bastard coming anywhere near you again."

Harry looked down at the bed, his heart beginning to pound again at the mention of Malfoy. He wished Sirius would leave.

"I have to admit that I did this for myself as well," Sirius confessed.

Harry looked up at him again, surprised at his words. "How would putting Malfoy in Azkaban benefit you?" he asked scathingly.

Sirius gave a short laugh before falling silent. He said nothing for a few moments, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet and controlled. "I can't stop thinking about what he did to you. About what they all did to you. Every day I look at you, and am reminded of how much they hurt you." Harry's heart seemed to have frozen inside his chest, his godfather's sincere words piercing through him as he continued on angrily. "It's not fair. They have to pay for what they've done, and Malfoy is the only one that I can get my hands on."

Harry didn't know what to say and he allowed Sirius to grasp his hands. What Sirius said made sense, he had never considered what Sirius had gone through in the past few weeks, not knowing whether he was alive or dead, not knowing if he would ever see him again.

"Surely you can understand why I did this."

Harry hesitated, but found that the more he looked into Sirius' pleading eyes the harder it was for him to be furious with him. Clenching his jaws together Harry nodded, looking away as Sirius' face filled with sweet relief.

Sighing as the relief filled him Sirius relaxed for a moment, knowing that he was still far from forgiven. He knew that some part of Harry still hated him, still resented him for the position he had been forced into. Seeing how tired Harry looked, Sirius decided to drop it.

"Thanks," he said. "I should probably let you get some rest, but can we talk tomorrow? I mean properly talk."

Harry nodded reluctantly, still not keen of having to talk to his godfather. Seeing his response Sirius released his hands and slowly stood up as another fear came rushing into Harry's mind.

"Wait," Harry said as Sirius stood.

"What is it?"

Harry didn't speak for a moment, knowing he had to tread carefully with Ginny hiding underneath his bed. He didn't want to give her any reason to bring up the subject herself.

"It's Mad-Eye. You don't think he'll really…" Harry trailed off, purposefully not mentioning the prophecy.

Sirius looked angry for a moment, his grey eyes flashing darkly as he remembered the threats that Mad-Eye had made against Harry. He sighed for a moment and put his hands into his pockets, wondering how to respond.

"You're going to have to tell him Harry." Seeing the look on Harry's face, Sirius continued hastily. "Honestly though, if Voldemort knows the prophecy, then what does it matter if the Order knows?"

"That's the thing," Harry insisted, his heart pounding now that Sirius had mentioned the prophecy out loud. He wondered if Ginny would bring it up. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't say anything that Voldemort didn't already know."

Sirius didn't reply for a few moments, trying to find the words to show Harry how important it was to the Order. He sighed before answering truthfully. "Harry, all that matters right now, is that the order wants to know. They're as determined to find out as you are to keep it from them."

"Why are they so determined?" Harry asked quietly as he stood up, moving towards his godfather. "They were happy enough not knowing before, why is there such a fuss about it now?"

"Quite frankly," Sirius began. "Because Dumbledore is dead. So far the order has trusted that he would tell them if necessary, but things have obviously changed, and they want to know just in case."

Harry looked at the ground, knowing that Sirius was right. "Can't they just take my word for it?" he asked, holding onto one last hope.

Sirius smiled at him grimly and resisted the urge to place his hand on his shoulder. "I can," he responded honestly. "But after what you've been through, they can't."

Still not looking up, Harry nodded in defeat as they stood there in silence for a few minutes. "I should let you get some sleep," Sirius murmured, echoing his words from a few minutes before.

"Thanks," he muttered, though not entirely sure why.

Sirius nodded. "We'll talk tomorrow," reminding Harry of the agreement he had made. Opening the door, Sirius hesitated before moving through it, speaking to Harry quietly. "You've only got a few minutes before Molly checks on everyone. Ginny should get a move on."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he looked up, and he swore he heard Ginny stifling a gasp beneath the bed. He was surprised to see a smile in the corner of Sirius' mouth, and then realised that he had known she was there all along. Saying nothing more Sirius promptly left, closing the door behind him. Waiting until his footsteps died away Ginny scrambled out from underneath the bed, horror and embarrassment written all over her face.

"Merlin," she cursed as she straightened her shirt and stood up. "That's got to be the second time he's caught us snogging."

"Third," Harry corrected hesitantly, worrying about whether or not she would bring up the prophecy. He could no longer deny the fact that she had heard him tell Voldemort.

"Well, we need to work on that," she added as she rounded the bed and came near him. She leant up and kissed him gently. "See you in the morning."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, both of them knowing what he was thanking her for.

She left quickly, not wanting to risk being caught out of bed by her mother. Wanting to avoid the same confrontation, even though Mrs Weasley would have been much softer on him, Harry quickly headed for bed, tossing the crumpled newspaper to the floor. Extinguishing the lights Harry tried to clear his thoughts, not wanting another night filled with nightmares, but his thoughts quickly strayed back to Malfoy, only interrupted by Mrs Weasley as she checked on him as Sirius had predicted.

Sleep seemed to take forever to come, and he had just felt himself slipping away as his bedroom door was slowly opened again, light flooding his bedroom. He quickly rolled over and sat up, his brief panic subsided and was replaced by annoyance as he saw the silhouettes of Ron and Hermione in his doorway.

"What is it?" he asked roughly, wondering how many more people would make unscheduled stops in his bedroom that night.

"Sorry to wake you up," Hermione apologised as she and Ron quickly entered his room, both of them dressed in their pajamas. They must have waited for Mrs Weasley to go to bed before daring to venture from their rooms. "I just couldn't wait any longer."

"What is it?" Harry asked in concern as they both sat on his bed. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened really," Ron said. He continued sheepishly. "We're not even sure if this is it."

"We found something," Hermione clarified. "Well, Ron found something."

"Found what?" Harry asked, his frustration growing.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, as though unsure of how to start. "Well, I was looking for my keepers gloves," Ron began. "I found this in Kreacher's cupboard."

He slowly pulled a wadded up handkerchief out of his dressing gown pocket. "We're not even sure if this is it," he muttered as he cautiously placed it on the bed, unfolded the thin material to reveal what it hid.

Harry gasped loudly, hardly believing what he saw. He froze for a moment, hardly hearing as Hermione said something, only concerned with the ornately carved _S_ on the large silver locket. "Where did you find this?"

"Kreacher's cupboard," Ron repeated. "So you think this is it? Slytherin's locket?"

Still not believing what he saw Harry reached out and picked up the heavy locket, ignoring the cautions he received from his two friends. The silver seemed unnaturally cold as he held it in his hands. He turned it over and found the opening, resisting the great temptation to attempt to prise it open, not knowing what would happen if he did.

"I don't understand," Harry said slowly. "You found this here?"

"That's another thing," Hermione said gently. "Didn't Sirius have a brother?"

Harry looked up at her sharply as things began to fall into place, like a puzzle after the final piece was inserted. "You can't be serious," Harry asked, not completely believing it.

"It makes sense though," Ron insisted. "His brother was a Death Eater."

"Regulus Black," Harry murmured as he grasped the chain and let the locket fall loose, dangling above the blankets like a pendulum. "But how could he have known?"

"We're not sure," Hermione said. "Do you think maybe you could find out? From Sirius I mean."

Harry raised his eye brows at her. "You want me to interrogate him about his dead brother, while I'm barely speaking to him?"

There was an awkward silence. "Well, she didn't say interrogate," Ron muttered sheepishly.

Harry ignored Ron, choosing instead to stare at the locket as though transfixed. He barely heard to harried conversation around him, his attention focused solely on the locket. Excitement and nervousness coursed through his veins as he wondered how they would destroy it, there certainly didn't seem to be any safe way. He cast his mind back to the cave, remembering the great difficulty that he and Dumbledore faced to just get out of there alive. If Regulus Black had swapped the locket, how had he done it?

Ron and Hermione left soon after, and Harry barely looked up as Hermione closed the door behind her, his attention still focused solely on the locket that he held in his hands. For a brief moment, he wondered if this truly was Slytherin's locket, the ease of its discovery plaguing Harry with doubt. Suddenly seized by the desire to hide it Harry abruptly stood up from his bed and headed straight for his trunk, lifting the lid and rummaging through the contents. Wrapping the locket in the handkerchief again Harry safely stowed it at the very bottom of his trunk, burying it underneath various clothing and school books, determined that it would not be accidentally found by the wrong person. He closed the lid of his trunk and stood up, remaining motionless in disbelief for a few moments, before eventually going back to his bed.

As he rolled over onto his side, Harry wondered how he was ever going to get any sleep that night knowing that a piece of Voldemort's soul lay at the foot of his bed.


	52. Chapter 52

A/N Hi everyone, I'm back again, and this time I'm bearing great news!

School has finished for me, for ever! While I will now be working full time, I have much more time to do some writing, which is how my Plot Bunny Advisor and I managed to get this chapter done so quickly!

Big thanks to Rachel, my afore mentioned Plot Bunny Advisor, who is my great source of ideas and help. When you leave a review, remember to give her a big thanks, I'm going to encourage her to start reading the reviews as well!

Anyway, enough talking.....onto Chapter 52!

Sighing in frustration, Harry rolled over onto his stomach, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape before burying his face in it and closing his eyes, pursuing the few more hours of sleep that he desperately needed. Only a few hours before he had awoken from another nightmare, his yells alerting Sirius who had rushed to his side before he was even properly awake for the second night in a row. He clearly recalled the comforting hug that Sirius had engulfed him in, his soothing reassurances that Ginny was okay, that she wasn't hurt.

No longer burying his face into his pillow, Harry looked up, rubbing his tired eyes as he blearily looked around the room. Sighing, Harry knew he was not going to get back to sleep, yet couldn't seem to muster up the will to get out of his warm bed. Closing his eyes again he tried to relax, but half an hour later he still found himself tossing and turning, no longer able to get comfortable. Groaning, Harry reluctantly sat up and threw the blankets off, a brief glance at his watch told him it had just passed six in the morning. Slowly standing up, Harry stretched his arms above his head, ignoring the pain and focusing on the sweet relief the stretch brought to his tired muscles.

Feeling a little more awake Harry crossed his room to the large bay window and sat down on the wide ledge, knowing it was too early to go downstairs without arousing Mrs Weasley's suspicion that there was something wrong. Most likely she would try to force feed him a sleeping potion. He shivered at the thought, rubbing his jaw as he remembered Snape forcing it open the previous week. Frowning to himself, he again tried to piece together the memories of his captivity, knowing that he wasn't able to recall quite everything, but remembered enough to understand his confusion about Snape. He wondered if he should talk to anyone about him, if he should tell anyone that Snape almost seemed to be helping him at one moment, then beating the hell out of him the next. Running his fingers through his hair Harry wondered what else there was that he wasn't quite recalling, and then quickly decided that he probably did not want to know, that ignorance was indeed bliss. Shaking his head he pushed his memories out of his mind, he had remembered enough of his time with Voldemort for one night.

He looked out of his window down into the empty muggle street below, the street lights doing little to illuminate it well. Resting his head on the glass Harry closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to Ginny, wondering how long it would be before she brought up the prophecy, how long it would be before she wanted to know the full story. He wondered if he could be completely honest with her, and knew that he didn't want to burden her with the further knowledge of the Horcruxes. The prophecy would probably be hard enough for her to digest. He worried what was going to happen to the two of them if he did properly explain the prophecy, what would happen if she were to find out about the Horcruxes. He wondered if she would be able to handle the whole truth, or if it would mean the end of their already fragile relationship. In the back of his mind, Harry thought that it would probably be best if they weren't together, that there would be no way for this knowledge to hurt her, but knew deep down that he would never be able to do that to either of them. Not again.

Shaking his head, Harry turned away from the window and stood up, approaching his trunk and opening it, rummaging through for a clean set of clothing. He suddenly remembered the locket that lay hidden at the very bottom of his trunk, and he put aside his clean clothes and searched for it instead. Quickly finding it he unwrapped it from the handkerchief, letting the long silver chain fall through his fingers as he studied the locket itself, marvelling at the unnaturally cool silver. It felt heavier than it should, and the ornate carving seemed to firmly hold his attention. He studied the locket intently, turning it over in his hand and tracing the grooves. He strangely almost wanted to say something aloud to it.

He carefully wrapped it back up the handkerchief and stowed it safely under a pile of old books at the bottom of his trunk, hoping that it was completely safe there. He changed into his tee shirt and the jeans that seemed larger than normal, throwing on a lightweight jumper to help cover the tattoo and marks that still covered his lower arms and wrists, thankful that Madam Pomfrey was coming by that morning. Safely stowing his wand away he took his glasses from the bedside table and reluctantly headed downstairs, wondering if anyone else would be awake yet.

Stifling a yawn behind his hand Harry slowly descended the stairs, not at all surprised to see Mrs Weasley at the table drinking tea. "Morning, Mrs Weasley."

Her head shot up, her eyes both concerned and suspicious at the same time. "Good morning, dear. You're up very early."

"Yeah," Harry agreed shortly with a forced smile, pouring himself a mug of tea.

"Well sit down dear," she instructed as she stood up from her place. "I'll fix you some breakfast."

"Oh, no. It's fine, thanks, I'm not really hungry."

"Nonsense," she rebuked him warmly. "You must be tired, sit down."

Knowing better than to argue with her, Harry complied, thanking her a few moments later as she served him few slices of toast. He reluctantly began eating, wishing that she hadn't bothered, he really wasn't hungry at all. Trying to occupy his thoughts, Harry took the Daily Prophet from the table in front of him, skipping straight past the front page picture of Malfoy and instead turning to the sports section at the back. He paused for a moment, and then slowly turned back to the front page. The headline bore the news of Malfoy's imminent release, and the uproar it had created in the Auror Department. Harry looked at the new picture of Malfoy before scanning the article beneath it, unsure of what to think.

"You just missed Tonks," Mrs Weasley mentioned as she noticed what Harry was reading. "She and Kingsley have been at the ministry all night, trying to overturn the decision."

"Have they had any luck?"

"No," Mrs Weasley replied grimly. "So now they're trying to get strict conditions imposed."

"Conditions?" asked Harry. "What type?"

"I'm not sure dear," she replied honestly, solemnly looking into her teacup as though hoping the tea leaves would tell her something.

Harry quietly turned back to the newspaper, not really reading the article, his eyes glued to the photograph of Malfoy. Jumbled thoughts flew through his head as they had been for the last week, and he still seemed incapable of making sense of anything, as though the true meaning of anything wasn't really sinking in. He briefly thought again of the locket hidden upstairs, and wondered how he would subtly ask Sirius about his brother. Rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses he sighed, he really was exhausted.

"What's bothering you?" Mrs Weasley asked.

For a moment, Harry was tempted to ask her what wasn't bothering him, but he resisted, knowing she only asked out of concern. He breathed out slowly, knowing he would have to answer her, and thought of the first thing that came to mind. "I just don't understand why they would release him. Especially after what Tonks did." He didn't seem able to say Malfoy's name out loud.

Mrs Weasley scoffed. "Corruption," she murmured darkly, leaning across the table to open the newspaper to the second page.

Looking down at the page where the article had continued from the first, Harry almost felt sickened as he saw the subheading. "Just another victim?" he said scathingly. "They're calling him a victim?"

"Yes," Mrs Weasley replied tersely as she stood up, taking her empty teacup to the sink. "Apparently Malfoy's representation defended him very well. He managed to convince the Wizengamont that he was coerced into doing what he did, that his life was at stake just as much as yours."

"That's…" Harry trailed off, knowing better than to swear in front of Mrs Weasley, no matter the circumstance.

"Like I said, it's corruption in the ministry."

"More like a few well placed imperious curses," Harry muttered darkly. Remembering the toast that was going cold on his plate, he reluctantly began eating, turning the page of the newspaper and scanning the headlines for something of interest. He lost track of time as he aimlessly flicked through the newspaper, reading various articles that he came across, but not really taking notice. Mrs Weasley left after a few minutes, and he was glad for the solitude that the early morning brought about, knowing that in a few hours the house would no longer be quiet and peaceful.

Yawning widely, Harry tipped his chair onto the back legs, removing his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes as he balanced. He reluctantly stood up from the table and took his plate to the sink and washed it, magically sending the clean plate back into the cupboard. Yawning again he slowly ascended the staircase, wandering into the empty sitting room where he slumped onto the couch and looked wistfully outside. The back yard of Grimmauld Place left a lot to be desired, but Harry was dying to go out there, to be allowed to set foot outside at all. It was ridiculous that they all be forbidden from going outside, news of Sirius and Remus' late night binge had not escaped his ears, and he knew they had been outside a little over a week ago. Harry's mood depleted even further as he contemplated the thought that he was still being kept prisoner even if it was 'for his own good.' Still, at least his new keepers were more intent on suffocating him into insanity than torturing him.

"What are you up so early for?"

Smiling, Harry looked up at the doorway, immediately recognising the voice. "I could ask the same of you, Gin."

"I couldn't sleep anymore," she stated simply as she entered, sitting on the couch next to him. "Hermione was snoring."

"Hermione?" Harry said in surprise as he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her cheek.

"Shocking, isn't it?" Ginny replied. "It's only quiet, but enough to annoy the hell out of me."

"She and Ron deserve each other."

"Don't say that," Ginny grinned. "No one deserves to sleep next to Ron."

Harry laughed to himself as she kissed him again, suppressing a flinch of pain as she rain her hand firmly up his back. He knew it was silly, but he didn't seem to have the heart to tell her how much that hurt, and for the first time ever he was relieved as she broke the kiss.

"Did you see Mum this morning?" she asked as she sat up.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "Why?"

Ginny sighed to herself. "I passed her on my way down and she looked upset, I think Percy has sent back another letter."

"Percy?" Harry said in alarm, sitting up suddenly.

"Yeah," Ginny replied darkly as she stood up. "He hasn't been answering Mum's letters for ages."

Harry froze. He could hear Voldemort's cold voice as though he stood right next to him. 'We've been black mailing him for months.' His heart rate increasing, memories flooded straight back to him, flashing before his eyes at an alarming rate. 'He's been helping me….passing important information.' Realisation suddenly struck him hard as he remembered what Percy had done, hardly believing that he had forgotten about it. His heart began racing at an alarming speed.

"Harry?" Ginny asked softly. "What is it?"

Harry looked at her in shock, remembering what Percy had done to her, what he had done to Ron. His mind seemed to have frozen in shock, unable to comprehend the thought that Percy had sold out his own siblings. Trying desperately to hide his reaction he stood up to face her. "I uh," he began, moving towards the hallway. "I have to go."

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked in alarm as she moved to block him, grabbing his arm. "Why are you acting so strangely?"

"It's nothing," Harry dismissed. He couldn't hide the shiver he felt as Voldemort's cruel revelation struck him again. "I just need to talk to Sirius."

"Talk to me! I want to help you."

Looking into her brown eyes, he could see the sincerity of what she was offering, the promise that he could trust her with anything. For just a moment Harry considered telling her what her brother had done. How it was her brother's actions that had caused her to be kidnapped and tortured; had caused him to face his death yet again. But his senses got the better of him. There was no point in unleashing her temper; and she was happier not knowing.

"It's nothing," Harry replied firmly. "I just need to talk to Sirius." Before she could argue further he manoeuvred his way past her and hastily made his way up the staircase. Alone now, panic began setting in again. He had hardly believed it at the time, and he had promptly pushed the news to the back of his mind, more concerned with getting through each day alive.

It seemed to take forever for him to reach the top floor, and he was relieved that he encountered no one else to explain his panic to. Reaching Sirius' bedroom he burst through the door without knocking, and found Sirius still in bed, tired from dealing with Harry's nightmare that night.

"Sirius!" Harry said loudly as he rushed to his bedside. "Sirius, wake up!"

Sitting bolt upright as though he had been awake anyway, Sirius immediately sprang into action. "What is it?" he asked worriedly as he saw the panic on Harry's face, throwing off the blankets and standing up. "What's wrong?"

Harry's words stuck in his throat. Now that he was here, that he was able to tell someone he trusted, he couldn't. It seemed so ridiculous. Percy could not have done what he was about to accuse him of, there was no way anyone raised in that family could be capable of such an act.

"Er," Harry began uncertainly, knowing that he would have to say something. He could hardly thing, he was so out of breath, and his wounds ached terribly from his quick escape from Ginny. He had done no physical work since before he was kidnapped, and it was showing at the worst of times.

Sirius noticed Harry's hesitation. "C'mon, sit down," he said firmly, urging Harry towards the edge of the bed. "You're white as a ghost."

Complying, Harry allowed Sirius to guide him towards the bed, and he sat down gratefully, trying to regain the firm self-control that had been wavering. Light headed, he rested is head in his hand for a moment, suppressing the rising nausea before it became too much.

"Is this about last night?" Sirius asked softly, sitting beside his godson and putting his arm around his shoulders. "The nightmare?"

"No," Harry replied quickly. He raised his head and breathe out slowly, knowing Sirius would want an explanation for his strange behaviour. Unable to look at Sirius' concerned face, Harry looked at the wall. "No, it's Percy."

There was a moment of silence as Sirius contemplated Harry's words. "Percy?" he confirmed blankly. "What's he done to get you so upset?"

"He, um," Harry began nervously, unsure of what to say, how to explain what he had remembered. He stood up and thrust his hands into his pockets, aimlessly pacing as he tried to organise his thoughts. "I think Voldemort got to him."

"Got to him?" Sirius said in alarm. "You think he's dead?"

"No!" Harry assured him, frustration rising inside of him at the difficulty of explaining this. He saw Voldemort's face in his minds eyes, and the right words were suddenly available. "Voldemort's been blackmailing him."

Sirius said nothing for a moment, his face showing nothing but confusion and disbelief. He slowly stood up and approached Harry, stopping his pacing as he put his hands on the top of his arms. "Where did you get this from?" Sirius asked firmly, forcing Harry to hold his gaze.

The reality of the situation crashed down upon Harry, and for a moment he considered taking back what he had said. He must be losing his grip, Percy could not have done this. "Voldemort told me," Harry replied before he could stop himself. "When he had me. He was gloating about it."

"What did Percy tell him?"

"I'm not sure," Harry replied honestly, his heart pounding. What if he was wrong? What if he was remembering things that didn't really happen? "He must have told them how to get to us, what protection the Order would have used."

Releasing his grip on Harry, Sirius turned and walked away before swearing loudly. Harry could feel his hands shaking, the need to explain was overwhelming. "It can't have been his fault, Voldemort said they'd been blackmailing him."

"Stop, Harry," Sirius said, slowly turning around to face him again. "Why didn't you say something before this?"

Harry faltered, having not expected this question. "I told you- I can't remember everything that happened," he started, feeling the sense of hopelessness that came about as he thought of the long periods when he could not recall any memories. "I only just remembered what Voldemort told me."

"Are you sure of this, Harry?" Sirius moved back over to him, placing his hand on his shoulder again. "Just tell me the truth, are you sure that's what Voldemort said?"  
"Yes," he replied.

Sirius stared at him for a moment, as though trying to decide whether or not to believe him, before nodding his head as Harry knew he would. "Who else have you told?" Sirius asked in haste, heading straight for his cupboard to find clean clothing.

"No one," Harry confirmed as Sirius quickly changed his clothes. "Just you."

"Good," he replied firmly. "Keep it that way, don't tell anyone."

"I won't," Harry promised blankly. The full impact of what he had just said hit him again. He didn't want to think of the repercussions of being wrong in his accusations.

"Hey," Sirius said, pulling Harry from his thoughts. Sirius pulled him towards his chest, engulfing him in a firm embrace. "I know you're freaking out, but you did the right thing by telling me."

Harry nodded against his chest, wishing he could think the same way.

Early that afternoon Harry sat alone on the top floor staircase, taking a few blessed minutes to be by himself. Madam Pomfrey had left him not so long ago, promising to be back the following week, but disappointment at the outcome of her visit filled Harry, and he wished she wouldn't bother. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting from her visit, certainly the news that his blood contained no traces of werewolf venom was a relief, but he now physically felt even worse that before.

She had healed his extensive bruising within minutes, creating blissful relief throughout his chest and shoulders now that he could finally breathe without feeling held back by pain, and he had felt somewhat hopeful. But as he had lay down on his bed while she treated the lacerations that covered his torso, the pain that had previously been manageable had rapidly become unbearable. Seeing his pain Sirius had promptly grasped Harry's hand, allowing him to squeeze as tightly as he could, clenching his jaw as he held back the gasp that threatened to escape. The lacerations on his back had felt as bad as they did the day Voldemort created them, and the pain had not subsided since. Harry was far from naïve, he had known none of his wounds would heal easily, not after being made by dark magic and Greyback, but he hadn't anticipated this amount of pain.

He was glad that Sirius had only been able to stay a few minutes, the look on his face when Pomfrey told them that the damage to his back was not likely to heal for months was almost as unbearable as the news itself, and Harry was immensely relieved when Remus had called him downstairs. In Harry's eyes Sirius' departure was perfect timing, Madam Pomfrey had started lecturing him about how little weight he had gained since coming home, and Harry didn't want to give Sirius further reason to worry. He had defended himself, stating that he had been eating properly, and she had reluctantly admitted that his potions would be suppressing his appetite, but encouraged him to eat even if he didn't feel hungry.

Sitting on the staircase Harry knew he should get up, that soon someone would come looking for him, but he couldn't seem to summon the energy, his body feeling no relief from the pain potion that Madam Pomfrey had given him. He wished he could stay there all day, the darkened halls were surprisingly soothing to his pounding headache, but his thoughts quickly turned back to Malfoy yet again.

Late that morning, he and Ron had secretly made good use of Fred and George's extendable ears to listen as Kingsley and Tonks reported their attempts to impose strict conditions on Malfoy's release. Harry and Ron were pleased at the success of the two Aurors, who had managed to push back Malfoy's release for another few weeks, but were horrified to learn that they were forcing Malfoy to return to Hogwarts, where Aurors and teachers would be able to keep a better eye on him.

"Mum must be having a fit," Ron had said to him darkly. "She's trying to make Ginny and I go back there too, but now I've got the perfect excuse to not go

Harry didn't have the heart to tell Ron that he was thinking of going back to Hogwarts, not after listening to him fight with his parents about not returning. The belief that a Horcrux had been hidden in Hogwarts was consuming him, and his desire to return was not impeded by Malfoy's return. If anything, his desire was heightened.

Shaking his head, Harry stood up. He had been worrying about Malfoy far too much lately, he really should have been worrying about how he would convince McGonagall to allow him to return. Thankfully now that he was seventeen he no longer needed Sirius' permission, but knew that the new Headmistress may refuse him. Slowly descending the staircase, Harry was suspicious as he encountered no one in the hallways that were normally buzzing with life this time of the day. He arrived at the second floor and was about to knock on Ginny's door when Mrs Weasley's voice inside caught his attention.

"I've told you before, Ginevra, an Order meeting is no place for children."

"Mum, I'm not a child!" Ginny protested. "Hermione's of age, why can't she go? Or Ron?"

"Because they are not members of the Order," Mrs Weasley began, continuing as she saw her daughters next argument coming. "And neither is Harry, so don't even suggest him."

His suspicion aroused, Harry finally understood what must be going on. Mrs Weasley must be responsible for making sure that they didn't eavesdrop on the Order meeting that was underway in the basement. He looked down at the floor in the direction of the basement, and wondered if he would be able to listen in, wondering if it was about Percy. He wished that he had kept his extendable ear rather than give it back to Ron.

"I need to check on Harry," Mrs Weasley stated, unknowingly warning him. "He must be feeling unwell after Madam Pomfrey."

He headed down the staircase before she could leave Ginny's room and spot him, wondering how much time had would have before she would find his bedroom empty and catch him listening at the basement door. He reached the ground floor and approached the basement door, annoyed to find that it was closed. There was no way of opening it without arousing suspicion, and he hoped that Mad-Eye wasn't present. He would catch him for sure. Preparing himself for disappointment, he leant his head close to the door, and for a few moments was unable to understand the faint talking he heard. Harry waited patiently, and was rewarded at the person speaking raised their voice.

"You don't understand," someone pleaded. "I had no choice!"

"Explain it to us," came the voice of Mad-Eye.

There was silence for a moment, and Harry listened intently, almost certain that it was Percy who had spoken.

"They were going to kill her," Percy stated. "They were going to kill Penelope."

"Who were?"

"Who do you think?" Percy replied urgently. "Bellatrix Lestrange cornered me and threatened both of us. She said they needed my help, or they were going to kill us."

"Why didn't you come to me?" Mr Weasley said. He sounded almost wounded, as though disbelieving that his own son could have betrayed them.

"They were watching me!" Percy replied desperately, trying to convince them of his truthfulness. "They would have killed her if I had gone anywhere near you. Why do you think I didn't visit when Ron and Ginny were in the hospital?"

"We would have protected you. Both of you."

"Like you protected Harry?" There was silence around the basement, and Harry suddenly realised how fast his heart was pounding, finally understanding why Percy had done this. "You obviously couldn't protect him properly, how were you going to protect Penelope and I?"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" asked Tonks incredulously, ignoring his question. "Any idea at all? If we hadn't gotten him out of there, Harry would be dead by now. Not to mention what you've done to your brother and sister."

"It's like I said," Percy said slowly. "I had no choice."

"What did you tell them?" Mad-Eye asked. "I want to know exactly what you told them."

There was silence again as Percy tried to think. Harry was torn. He didn't want to hear anymore, he didn't want to know exactly how Percy had contributed to his abduction and to the abductions of Ron and Ginny, yet he couldn't seem to tear himself way from the door. He half wished Mad-Eye or Mrs Weasley would catch him listening, just so someone else would pull him away.

"I told them what protective charms you used on the Burrow. I told them how to get through."

"What else?" Mad-Eye asked.

"I told them how to find Harry," Percy continued, shame evident in every word he spoke. "I told them he had a file in the Child Services Department that would give them his location with Sirius."

"What else?" Mad-Eye asked again.

"Nothing!" Percy replied imperatively. "Nothing else, I promise."

"Apparently," Mr Weasley said so quietly Harry almost didn't hear. "That was more than enough."

Percy hesitated. "I didn't know what they would do."

Harry jumped as Sirius started yelling, announcing his presence. "What did you think they were going to do? You're information almost got Harry killed; not to mention your brother and sister. How could you do that to them?"

It was obvious to Harry that Sirius had been trying to keep his temper, and he was thoroughly shocked. He had never heard Sirius lose control like this.

"Harry's strong," Percy insisted, a note of panic in his voice. "He'll bounce back, he always does."

"Sirius, no!" someone shouted as chairs scraped against the stone floor loudly. Harry could almost picture someone holding Sirius back as he launched himself at Percy, his wand raised and eyes blazing. There was a loud scuffle before Sirius yelled again.

"How dare you say that? Do you have any idea what they've done to him? Do you have any idea how much he was tortured, how badly he was beaten? You haven't seen him, you don't know how much he's changed, he'll never be the same person again."

"Sirius," Mad-Eye said in warning, having just detected Harry's presence.

"He's in so much pain, I can hardly look at him! This is your fault! You did that to him!"

"I didn't have a choice!"

At the sound of angry footsteps ascending the kitchen staircase Harry hastily straightened up and moved away from the door, standing near the wall. A moment later the door burst open and Sirius barrelled out, his eyes blazing with a fury that Harry had never seen before. He pressed himself against the wall almost as if he were in fear, and Sirius looked up, shock replacing fury as he realised who had been listening. The colour from Sirius' face drained away as the two of them stood rooted to the spot, neither of them able to move. Harry's hands were shaking. He had never seen Sirius like this before.

"Sirius," Remus pleaded as he too came through the door, stopping in shock as he saw the scene before him. Sirius didn't take his eyes from Harry, wondering in horror how much he had heard. As though deciding he couldn't trust himself to speak calmly, Sirius quickly rushed past Harry like he wasn't there, and after a moment's hesitation, Remus followed. As though he were in a dream Harry walked towards the door and descended a few steps, watching the scene in the kitchen before him as though he wasn't really there. Percy and Mr Weasley continued arguing, oblivious to Harry's presence as Mad-Eye stood to the side, his wand held ready by his side. In the back of his mind Harry knew that Tonks was coming up the stairs towards him, speaking to him quietly.

Harry ignored Tonks as the reality of the situation hit him hard. There was no point in trying to deny it any longer. Percy had betrayed them. Percy had told Voldemort where he was, how to break through his protection. He could feel the Death Eaters as they held him down, he could see Ron bound to a deck chair in his back yard, blood trickling down the side of his face. He heard Ginny screaming as Voldemort tortured her. Percy had done that to them.

As though he had heard Harry's thoughts, Percy looked up and saw him, his jaw dropping open. There was silence around the kitchen as Percy stared at Harry, unsure of what to do. Sensing that Percy was about to say something, Harry turned away and went back upstairs, followed by Tonks. His heart pounded heavily and his breathing turned ragged as he marched through the halls, unsure of where exactly he was going. He heard Sirius still yelling in a nearby room, but Harry ignored him as memories of his abduction flashed before his eyes.

"Harry, wait," Tonks pleaded as she followed him through the hall. "Where are you going?"

Entering the sitting room, Harry realised his destination. He was surprised to find that the patio doors were unlocked, but he wasted no time in questioning this, fleeing onto the patio and down the steps, gulping in the thick summer air. Stopping in the very centre of the lawn, he closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he tried to comprehend what was happening. He wanted to scream so badly, he needed to find some release to the pressure that had slowly built up inside of him since he was rescued, but he forced himself not to. Instead, he lashed out by kicking a stray pot, the shattering terracotta doing little to relieve him.

He stood where he was for a few more moments, his breathing ragged as though he wasn't getting enough oxygen. His entire body felt heavier than it should, and he gratefully sat down on a nearby stone bench, sighing with the relief that it brought him. Convinced that he wasn't doing anything too rash, Tonks slowly approached him and sat down on the bench beside him, her wand still ready by her side.

"Feel better?" she asked in concern.

Harry shook his head. "No," he replied shortly. "How could Percy do that? And Sirius…how could he say those things?"

"People say things they don't really mean when they're mad, and Sirius is no exception."

"I just," Harry started. "I don't get it."

"He's angry," Tonks replied. "He's so angry about what's happened to you, about the pain they're putting you through. We're all angry, and we're just looking for someone to blame."

"Blame Voldemort," Harry replied bitterly. "Blame Snape."

"Don't worry, we've got them covered."

Harry smiled for a moment, and then felt a chill run down his spine despite the warm summer breeze.

"C'mon," Tonks muttered lowly. "You need to come inside, it's not safe out here."

He almost refused her, wishing that he could stay alone in the quiet garden for the remainder of the afternoon, but knew she wouldn't allow it. Reluctantly standing up, Harry followed Tonks to the safety inside the house.


	53. Chapter 53

A/N Hello again everyone.

I know! I know this chapter took forever, but when you realise how long it is you'll be full of forgiveness! It's over 13000 words (a personal record) and when I tried to email it to Rachel for editing, the email could only send half! ;-)

Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review, I'm going to need the ego boost to get a decent start on chapter 54!

"Why were you so upset before?" Ginny quietly asked Harry as they sat together in the kitchen, eating lunch.

"When?" Harry asked innocently, very aware of everyone who was around and listening to their conversation.

"I saw you from my room," Ginny explained. "When you went outside with Tonks. You looked pretty upset."

Harry hesitated, unsure of what to say. So far Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been oblivious to Percy's presence, and his betrayal. "I was…fighting with Sirius," he lied flawlessly. "That's all."

"Again?" she asked in concern, pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth. "You've never fought with him before this."

"Yeah, well," Harry muttered. "He's been the one starting it."

His lunch half finished, Harry sent his plate to the sink and pulled the news paper towards himself, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that told him to keep eating. Ginny didn't reply, and as she finished her lunch they moved into the sitting room, slouching on the couch together, talking about anything not related to his abduction. He was glad that he could finally relax after what had happened this morning, and he suspected Remus of slipping him a calming draught in his Pumpkin juice, but found that he really didn't care. Everyone in the Order seemed to be on edge this afternoon, as though Percy had exposed them all to some terrible plague, and Harry was glad that he wasn't part of the tension they had created.

His mind completely relaxed, Harry felt as though he were slipping off to sleep, and was glad for Ginny talking to him as she flicked through her magazine, her voice keeping him awake as she lay beside him on the couch, neither of them caring about how little room there was. As it always did when he tried to avoid it, his thoughts immediately strayed to his imprisonment, and he wondered what Voldemort was doing now, how he had reacted after he had been rescued. He thought of Dumbledore as he had many times this past week, and wondered if things would have been different, were he alive. If he were alive, Voldemort would probably not even have attempted to abduct Harry, knowing the protection Dumbledore provided was far too great.

"Harry?" Ginny said quietly, getting his attention. "What was wrong this morning?"

"This morning?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yeah. What was so important that you couldn't wait five minutes to tell Sirius."

It was clear to him now, and he wished that she had forgotten about his strange demeanour that morning as he remembered Percy's betrayal. He knew he would have to cover up for this, that he would have to sufficiently distract her to avoid her detecting his lie. Smiling coyly, he leant over and kissed her, sustaining the kiss longer than necessary. Pulling away slightly he kept his face close as he whispered to her. "What if I told you it was a secret?"

Returning the kiss, Ginny murmured to him, "I'd be very interested."

Harry's plan to distract her had perhaps worked too well, back firing on him almost immediately as she reached for the hem of his jumper, intent on slipping her hand underneath and picking up where they had left off the night before. He caught her hand and slowly sat up. There was no way he was going to reveal the true extent of his injuries to her, it was bad enough that she could see the stitches on his face and neck.

"What is it?" Ginny asked in disappointment as she too sat up.

"Nothing," Harry replied as he kissed her again, recovering from his strange reaction quickly. "I promise."

Ginny frowned at him, and he knew that she didn't believe him. He knew he needed to give her an explanation for his behaviour today, there was no way he could continue passing it off as nothing. "I'm sorry I've been so weird today."

"It's alright," Ginny replied honestly, leaning towards him.

"No, it's not," Harry answered, pulling away from her. He paused for a moment, making a split second decision that he was sure to regret. "Ginny, we need to talk."

"About what?" Ginny asked slowly, as though expecting him to try and break up with her again.

Hesitating before speaking, Harry looked around, wondering if anyone was listening. Making sure Sirius wasn't around to stop him using magic, he drew his wand and cast a muffliato, satisfied that their conversation would not be open to prying ears. Nervous about what he was going to reveal he stood up and wandered to the middle of the sitting room, facing away from Ginny who waited patiently as he steeled himself for what he would say.

"When you were….when Voldemort kidnapped you," he began nervously, hesitating. He suddenly couldn't breathe, scared of what her reaction might be, scared that she would want no further relationship if he told her the truth. The full truth. "You heard something that you shouldn't have."

"Yeah, I know. The prophecy," she replied without hesitation.

Harry turned around and looked at her, breathing out unsteadily. "What do you remember?"

"Just that you're the only one who can kill him."

"Right," Harry murmured to himself. He stood awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to say, unsure of whether he should continue or not.

"Harry," Ginny began. "Is it true?"

Harry breathed out slowly and looked away from her, nodding reluctantly. His heart dropped as he heard her stand up from the couch and walk away from it, certain that she was fleeing the room. He jumped slightly as he felt her slip her hand around his waist, standing beside him supportively. "How long have you known?"

"Since fifth year," he replied. "Dumbledore told me the prophecy after what happened in the Department of Mysteries."

"I thought it broke."

Harry nodded. "It did, but Dumbledore had already heard it."

"Heard it from where?"

Harry paused for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around her reaction. He had not expected this, he had expected her to run as soon as he told her that he must kill Voldemort. He did not anticipate this level of support or concern. He gave a sad crooked smile, knowing that she wouldn't believe what he told her next. "Trelawney told him."

Ginny glared at him for a moment. "C'mon, don't joke with me. This is serious."

"I'm not joking," he told her sincerely. "Why else would Dumbledore keep her at Hogwarts? Definitely not for her teaching skills."

Ginny nodded after a moment, accepting his explanation before slipping her other arm around his waist and pulling him close, resting her head on his shoulder. Breathing out slowly, Harry held her tightly as relief filled him, having been so sure that she would reject him after hearing the truth. As he considered her reaction further, his relief was slowly filled with dread. Surely her support could not last.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, lifting her head and looking at him as she felt the tension in his body.

He sighed before answering her. "Why aren't you freaking out?"

She smiled at him grimly. "You don't think I haven't considered this before?"

"I never did," he replied honestly.

She laughed shortly, pulling away from him and taking his hand, leading him back to the couch where they sat down together. "Who did he kill?"

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, not understanding.

"I heard the killing curse as I was being taken away. I'd thought he'd killed you."

"Oh," he muttered, his heart plummeting as he remembered, her words filling another blank. He remembered the bright flash of green light that he had seen too many times, and heard the loud thud of Peter Pettigrew's body as he crumpled to the floor dead. "You heard that? I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she replied imperatively. "None of this was your fault."

"It was Pettigrew," Harry continued, barely hearing her words. "I saved his life once, and I don't think Voldemort wanted him to return the favour."

Ginny nodded, reaching up and caressing his face, staring at him hard, her eyes filled with sadness. They sat in silence for a few moments before Harry asked, "What is it?"

"You were so brave."

Harry laughed shortly. "I survived," he replied simply. "There's nothing brave about that."

She shook her head. "No, you did more than survive. I heard everything, Harry. You stood up to him, you fought against him."

"I told him the prophecy," he reminded her.

"Only when you had no other choice!" she replied. "Besides, telling him hasn't made any difference, he was trying to kill you long before you told him."

Harry said nothing, choosing instead to look down at the couch. Her words made sense, but he still couldn't stop feeling immense guilt about telling Voldemort. Despite the threat to Ginny's life, he should have done more, he should have tried to lie.

"The Order wants me to tell them," he confessed.

"You should," she responded simply. "Nothing will change if they know, so what's stopping you?"

"I don't know," he replied softly, still not looking her in the eye. "Dumbledore and I worked so hard to keep it from Voldemort it's hard to just tell anyone. It feels like I'd be just giving in to them."

"I understand."

Feeling as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his chest, Harry nodded, finally taking her in his arms again and laying down. He had been certain that this knowledge would be the end of their relationship, that she wouldn't be able to handle his future. He felt a lot better, and he almost felt that he would be able to tell the Order. Or at least tell Sirius.

"Thanks," Harry muttered to Ginny, kissing her appreciatively.

"For what?" she asked, even though she already knew.

"For not freaking out," he replied. "You don't know how worried I've been."

She smiled at him and rolled onto her side, kissing him deeply as he pulled her closer. Breaking away after a moment, she whispered against his lips. "If it were anyone but you, I would have freaked out."

"Why?"

"Because I know you can do it," she replied.

Harry gave a short laugh. "You know I can kill a man?"

"Voldemort hardly counts as a man." She kissed him again.

Returning the kiss, Harry felt the familiar sense of dread filling him again, as the worries and insecurities that had plagued him ever since he learned of the prophecy invaded him again. "I don't want to. I don't want to kill someone, I don't want to be like him."

"You're not like him," Ginny promised. "You have a soul. He's….well no one like him could possibly have a soul."

Harry stayed silent for a few moment, her naive comments about Voldemort's soul striking him hard, and he wondered what he should do. He wondered if she would be able to handle the Horcruxes, if she finally show some sense of fear towards what it was they all faced. Did he even want her to know? Wasn't it so easy and carefree for him to be with someone who didn't have the constant thought of Horcruxes hanging over their heads just like he did?

"He does have a soul," Harry responded slowly, his words quiet and controlled. Subconsciously Harry tighten his hold around her, as though afraid she was going to leave. "But it's been ruined."

"How would a person's soul be ruined?" Ginny murmured into the crook of his neck where she rested her head.

"Um," he responded nervously, his heart pounding furiously at the thought of telling her everything, of leaving nothing left out. "Dumbledore said that your soul is split when you murder someone."

"Voldemort's in trouble then," Ginny replied with a laugh that did nothing to calm Harry.

Nervously, Harry slowly pulled his arm from beneath Ginny and sat up, facing away from her. He breathed heavily for a few moments, and suddenly felt sick, not believing that he was really going to tell her the truth. "Ginny, have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

Ginny paused for a moment, worry again filling her as she too slowly sat up, her arm sliding around Harry's back in comfort. "No."

Breathing out slowly, he explained. "It's an item that holds a piece of someone's soul after they've killed another person." He paused for a moment to allow her to digest this news. "A person who has made a Horcrux can't be killed, until the Horcrux is destroyed first."

"And Voldemort made a Horcrux?"

"No," Harry replied, finally looking at her face as it filled with relief. "He made seven."

"Seven?" she asked in disbelief, horror filling her face. "Seven bits of his soul are out there somewhere?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he agreed. "In fact, you've already seen one of them."

"The diary?"

Harry nodded, unable to respond out loud. He looked away from her and stared straight ahead, unable to look at her face any longer.

"And you have to destroy them, right?"

Harry nodded again, not going into the details of what had already been done. He rested his head in his hands as Ginny sighed, trying to comprehend this further complication. The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, both of them trying to clear the thoughts racing through their minds, trying to think of the right things to say to each other. Finally, Ginny broke the silence.

"Harry," she said softly, pulling his hands away from his face and forcing him to look at her. "You can do this. I know you can."

Harry shook his head sadly, disbelieving her. "You don't know that, Ginny. How could you possible know?"

"Because I'm going to help you."

"No," Harry responded immediately. "You can't help, I won't let you."

"Harry," she replied softly, reaching for his face and forcing him to look at her. She had known exactly how he was going to react, and she was prepared to fight him. "You don't have to do this all alone."

Sitting up straight in order to reach him, Ginny turned her head up and kissed him gently, not allowing him to pull away. She could feel the fear that had built up inside of him so clearly that it were almost as if it were her own, and she wished there was something she could do to take it all away from him, that there was something she could do to help him at all. She finally broke the kiss and allowed him to pull away slightly, but still kept her face close to his.

"Ginny, I…you don't understand," he said nervously, pleading with her to understand. "It's not that simple. Right now all I can think about is what happened to you last week, and about what could have happened. I can't risk losing you, it's too much."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised, kissing him again gently.

Pulling away from her, he felt only frustration. Why couldn't she understand? "That's not your decision to make, Ginny. It's not as though we get to chose whether we live or die."

"What do you want me to say, Harry? That I'm going to sit at home while everyone else fights for our future? You know I won't do that. You know that I'll be there. I'll be right beside you the whole way."

Breathing out slowly, Harry looked down at his leg, trying to comprehend what she was saying, trying to find the words that would convince her to keep herself safe, but none came to him. Finally accepting this small defeat, Harry reluctantly nodded his head, acknowledging her involvement in Voldemort's down fall. He wasn't sure what to think anymore.

"Thanks," he said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

Ginny smiled grimly. "It's like I said before. If it were anyone but you, it wouldn't be worth it."

Allowing a moment for her words to sink in, Harry looked back down at her and kissed her again, hoping that she truly realised just how much she meant to him.

The sun had already begun slowly setting before Harry dared to go in search of Sirius, his talk with Ginny weighing heavily on his chest as the full extent of what he told her slowly began to dawn on him. But he pushed that all aside, remembering that he needed to talk to Sirius, he needed to find out if it were at all possible that Regulus had turned away from Voldemort. Yet Sirius' words of anger and blame from that morning still rang clear in Harry's ears, and he wondered if this was really the best time for him to be talking to Sirius at all, let alone bringing up a subject that was sure to anger him. The walk to the drawing room where he knew Sirius to be seemed longer than usual, as though the house itself was taunting him for the confessions he had made, and for his plans to interrogate Sirius.

Reaching the drawing room, Harry hesitated outside. He didn't know what to say. He was still furious that his godfather had allowed Tonks to impersonate him, but at the same time he couldn't stay mad at him for long. He considered not going in for a moment, simply turning around and leaving, but for a fleeting moment he could almost see Slytherin's locket as though it were right in front of him, rather than upstairs in his trunk, and he was reminded of the reason that he had sought his godfather out. Steeling himself for a moment, Harry slowly entered the dark drawing room, finding Sirius sprawled out on the dusty couch pursuing the current issue of the Daily Prophet.

"Hey," he said quietly, gaining his godfathers attention.

Sirius immediately sat up, somewhat startled by Harry's sudden appearance. "Hey mate, what is it?"

Harry said nothing for a moment, moving towards the couch and sitting down beside Sirius. "Mrs Weasley kicked me out of the kitchen, she must think peeling vegetables is too exhausting for me."

Surprisingly, Sirius laughed deeply, folding up the newspaper and throwing it on the floor. Harry smiled genuinely, it had been so long since he had heard Sirius laugh it was a relief to hear it again. Harry glanced down at the newspaper that sat forgotten on the floor, and then forced his mind away from it. He had spent too long thinking about Draco Malfoy in the past week.

"Where's Percy?" Harry asked hesitantly, wary of bringing him up. He didn't want to see the look of fury that he had seen on Sirius' face again, and he hoped that he wouldn't react badly.

"Er," Sirius began, his laughter disappearing as quickly as it had come. "I'm not sure. I think Mad-Eye and Kingsley have taken him somewhere."

"What's going to happen to him?"

"I don't know," Sirius replied honestly, looking at him in concern and shaking his head to himself. "You haven't told anyone else, have you?"

Harry shook his head as he drew his feet up to the couch beside him, deep in thought. He hadn't considered what may happen to Percy once his secret had come out, and despite what he had done to them all, Harry couldn't help but feel strangely responsible for what would happen to him next.

"Harry?" Sirius said as he placed his hand on Harry's.

Having not expected it, Harry flinched openly at the sudden and unexpected contact. As he realised how strangely he had reacted, his eyes darted to Sirius, who seemed shocked by his reaction to a simple touch. "Yeah?" Harry said quickly, trying to distract Sirius from his reaction.

Moving his hand away, Sirius studied his face hard for a few moments, and Harry wanted to look away from his stony expression. "I want you to be completely honest with me."

Harry raised his eyes brows and looked away, unconsciously leaning back into the couch. He knew exactly where this conversation was going, and he didn't like it. He nodded his head slightly in recognition.

Sirius sighed as though he had been working himself up to this for days. Slowly this time, he reached out and grasped one of Harry's hands firmly within his own, squeezing it in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

There was silence for a few moments as Sirius considered the best way to ask his godson the burning question, wondering if he would tell him what he so desperately needed to hear. He was desperate to know the full truth, no matter how much it would hurt him, no matter how much pain it would cause the both of them.

"How are you feeling?"

Harry sighed, reluctantly leaving his hand in Sirius' grasp, despite the desire to pull it away. He despised being asked that question, he despised having people fuss over him as though he couldn't deal with his problems himself. The question was posed to him so often, each time making him feel completely helpless for one startling moment, as though answering truthfully would bring his strong façade crumbling to the ground around him. He lied as he always did.

"I'm fine," he stressed, looking Sirius in the eye. "Honestly, Sirius, I'm okay."

Sirius shook his head to himself, grasping Harry's hand even tighter. "Harry, after what happened to you, no one would be okay. No one would be 'fine'."

"But I am," Harry replied quickly, successfully keeping his voice low and controlled. The last thing he wanted was another fight. "I'm okay."

"I don't believe what you're saying," Sirius responded promptly, before continuing gently, knowing that it didn't take much to press Harry too far. "Harry, you're seventeen. You were tortured by those monsters. They drugged and starved you. It's alright to not be okay."

Unable to look at Sirius as he said those words, Harry pulled his hand from his grasp and stood up, slowly crossing to the other side of the room. He knew something like this was going to be brought up. He wished Sirius would just stop, that he would stop reminding him of what happened. Hearing what happened spoken aloud made it seem more of a reality than it had before.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius began as he too stood up. "But when you look at me with a blank face and say that you're fine, I just can't believe you."

Not replying for a few moments, Harry's heart thundered in his chest as he realised how little Sirius believed his lies. It had always felt as though Sirius knew him better than anyone else, and he should have known that Sirius would see straight through his lies. Breathing out slowly, he wondered how he should reply.

"I'm tired," he admitted quietly to placate his godfather, and he shoved his hands into his pockets nervously. "I'm really tired."

"Of course you are," Sirius agreed, moving to stand beside Harry. "You're barely sleeping at night."

"It's more than that," Harry continued. Once he had honestly admitted his struggle he found it easier to continue. "I dunno, it's like I was out of it for so long it feels like I still should be. It's like everything I do is exhausting."

"How's your back?"

"Sore," he replied shortly, not wanting to divulge exactly how painful his back was, how the pain was raised to an even worse level whenever someone touched it. He glanced at Sirius momentarily, seeing on his face the unwavering support that he was offering, and had never felt more grateful for his godfather in his life.

"Harry," Sirius began cautiously. "What happened to you? When you were with Voldemort?"

"I don't want to-"

"I know you don't want to talk about it," Sirius interrupted. "But I think it will really help you. Harry, I know what this is like, after I escaped Azkaban I felt the same way. I didn't want to talk about anything to do with it, but I finally did. During your fifth year, Remus and I talked so much, and it helped. Just having someone to talk to and get it all out made everything so much clearer."

Folding his arms across his chest, Harry thought for a long time, his eyes never leaving the floor. He turned around and went back to the couch, sitting down and running his fingers through his hair nervously. "I still don't remember everything," he said awkwardly.

"That's okay," Sirius replied imperatively, hastily following Harry to the couch and sitting down to face him. "Just tell me what you do remember." He took Harry's hand in his own again and squeezed it firmly, a show of comfort and support that seemed to help.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything," Sirius pressed gently.

Harry didn't reply for a few moments, deep in thought about what to say. He wished Sirius would stop pushing him, he couldn't see how talking about his imprisonment was supposed to help him. He just wished that he could forget everything, that he didn't have to think about it anymore. He was so tired of it, since he had been rescued his whole existence was based around recovering, but his injuries forced him to face what had happened every day.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Sirius suggested when Harry didn't respond.

Breathing out slowly, he was reluctant to start at the beginning, certain that any mention of Snape would aggravate his godfather. "It was Snape who took me." Harry glanced at Sirius to see if he was indeed angry at the revelation, but only saw concern and support on his godfathers face. Seeing this, Harry immediately felt his chest tighten and his throat constrict, and he looked away before his control crumbled. "He told me he had Ron, that he was going to kill him."

"Ron told us what happened, he said you tried to help him. There was nothing more that you could have done."

"I've been telling myself that," Harry replied bitterly. "But I feel so guilty every time I see him. I thought he was dead the entire time that I was there."

"What else happened?" Sirius prompted.

Harry didn't reply, casting his mind around and trying to make sense of the blurred memories he had of that night. "There was glass on the floor," Harry said offhandedly. "I don't really remember much else."

"What about when you were with Voldemort? What happened first."

"I woke up in an empty room," he replied straightaway, remembering this time very clearly. "My hands were tied behind my back. And it was cold."

"Tonks said there were charms on the room," Sirius clarified. "The charms were making it cold."

"Great," Harry muttered sarcastically under his breath. "Like it wasn't bad enough."

"It's okay," Sirius soothed, moving closer to his godson. "You're home now. You're safe."

"I was supposed to be safe before," Harry said before he could stop himself, regretting his words instantly as he saw the look of pain on Sirius' face.

"Yes, well…we didn't count on Percy's involvement. We're being much more cautious," he assured Harry. "We're even making plans to abandon this place and go somewhere else. No one's going to touch you again."

Harry looked away, disbelieving what Sirius said.

"Harry," Sirius said seriously, his tone forcing Harry to look back at him. "I will do anything I have to do, to protect you. The whole Order will. That's our primary goal."

Harry nodded slowly and looked away again, the fact that he had so many people willing to protect him at any cost wasn't a comfort to him. It scared the hell out of him.

"What else happened?" Sirius asked, bringing their attention back to the original topic.

"They took me straight to Voldemort." He sighed. "He wanted to know things about me, about Dumbledore and the Order; but I didn't tell him."

"And when you refused?"

Nervously, Harry drew his feet up to the couch, resting them beside him. He did not want to talk about what happened next, not to anyone. "You already know what happened. I'm sure the Healers told you."

"You should say it out loud. It will help you, I promise."

Harry shook his head. "No."

Sirius hesitated, understanding Harry's reluctance firsthand. "I understand why you don't want to tell me."

"No, you don't."

"I do," Sirius replied, moving closer again. He gripped Harry's hand firmly, trying to give him whatever comfort he would allow. "You don't want to say it out loud, because if you do it feels like it was real. If it's real, you can't deny it anymore."

"I am not in denial," Harry replied indignantly. "I know what happened to me."

"Then tell me."

Harry stayed silent for a long moment before replying. "He used the cruciatus, a lot," Harry began, determined to prove that he could. "But I still wasn't telling him anything, so he gave me those marks on my back. I don't know what the spell was, but it felt like a whip or something…it was awful."

Sirius' grip on Harry's hand tightened, and he knew that he was torn between wanting Harry to talk, and wanting to remain blissfully ignorant to what had happened to his him. "What about your ribs? The bruises?"

Harry paused, remembering the broken ribs he had sustained, and the difficulty breathing that it brought about. "Whenever I got too smart with my mouth," he began quietly, his hands shaking. "They'd hold me down and kick me."

Sirius didn't reply for a few moments, instead slipping his free arm around Harry's shoulder and holding him close, trying to stop the shaking in his own hands. He knew how hard this must be for his godson, it was hard enough for him to talk to Remus about Azkaban, and that was after having months to process his thoughts and to really understand what had happened. "It's over now," he soothed, needing the comforting words more than his godson. "You're safe here."

"Don't lie to make me feel better."

"I'm not -"

"He's always been able to get to me," Harry interrupted him incredulously, pulling from his grasp and standing up. He could hardly believe that Sirius still thought he was safe, that he could still be protected from anyone. "Voldemort can find me anytime he wants to, not even Dumbledore was ever able to truly stop him. I'm never going to have a real life until one of us is dead."

"That's not true, Harry." Sirius stood up, facing him.

Suddenly, it just felt right, and he knew it was time to tell Sirius. "I kill him, or he kills me. It's what the prophecy says," Harry blurted out before he could hesitate. Speaking more softly now, he continued. "Either way, Sirius, this isn't over."

Sirius froze for a moment, and then nodded gently. "I know," he replied gently. "I've known all along."

"You've what?" Harry asked in horror, stepping back in shock, his mind reeling. "You know?"

"Yes."

His head spinning, Harry sat down again as though he were in a daze, unable to fathom the thought that Sirius had known his secret all along. He rested his head in his hands as he tried to make sense of this information. "How did you find out?"

Sitting down beside him, Sirius laughed as though the answer were obvious. "When your parents asked me to be their Secret Keeper, naturally I wanted to know why."

"Oh," Harry murmured as everything began making sense. Of course his parents would have told their intended secret keeper, of course they would have trusted Sirius before anyone else. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked. "I've been so worried about whether to tell you or not."

"I wanted you to bring it up," Sirius explained. "I knew you would come to me when you were ready to talk about it."

Harry nodded, knowing that it made sense. "I don't know if I can do it," he blurted out.

"We'll get you through this," Sirius promised him. "The Order will help you when they understand."

"No!" Harry said in anger, raising his head and looking at Sirius. "You can't tell them."

"Why not?" Sirius asked calmly.

"I don't want them to know," Harry replied imperatively. "At least not yet."

"They want to know, Harry," Sirius replied. "You have to tell them soon.'

Frustrated, Harry clenched his fists, trying to find the right words. "It makes no difference to them. It makes no difference to them or to Voldemort. I just don't need any more people knowing all my secrets."

"Any more people?" Sirius questioned. "Who else knows?"

Harry hesitated before replying, wondering if Sirius would be upset that he had told others, but refused to tell the Order. "Ron, Hermione and Ginny."

"That's it?" he clarified. "Just you kids?"

"I'd hardly call us kids after what has happened."

"Hey," Sirius rebuked him. He slowly reached out his hand and forced Harry to look him in the eye. "You may have been put through hell, but you are still a kid."

Twisting his head from Sirius' grasp, memories of his life before Hogwarts flashed before his eyes. "I was never a kid," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Sirius," Harry responded immediately. "Nothing."

He knew he needed to change the subject of their conversation before Sirius continued pushing him, before he could continue encouraging Harry to do the one thing he didn't want to do, which was talk about his imprisonment. He looked at the Black family tapestry on the far wall, and slowly stood up and approached it, his eyes scanning for the branch that bore the name Regulus Black.

He found the branch at the very bottom of the tapestry, Regulus' name was beside the large burn that was once Sirius'. Harry was disappointed to find that there was no middle name recorded, and he felt a great sense of disappointment, but nevertheless he pursued the subtle interrogation needed to confirm that it was in fact Regulus Black who stole the original.

Harry looked at Sirius over his shoulder, feigning innocent curiosity. "What was Regulus like?"

"What?" Sirius asked in surprise, his eye brows raised. "Regulus?"

"Yeah," Harry replied before facing the tapestry again. "He's your brother, but I know hardly anything about him."

Uncomfortable, Sirius reluctantly stood up and came over to the tapestry, looking at the same spot that Harry did. "There's really not a lot to say."

Harry hesitated, feeling a grim sense of satisfaction as he remembered how much Sirius hated talking about his family. "Why was he killed?"

"Well, I-" he began awkwardly, clearly wishing to change the subject. "As far as I know, he got in pretty deep with the Death Eaters. He panicked and tried to get out, so Voldemort had him killed."

Harry nodded in recognition. He already knew this, Sirius had told him the first summer he had stayed. He knew he had to pursue a different line of questioning if he was going to get any information regarding Regulus. "Sirius, do you think anyone ever really changes?"

Sirius pondered this thought for a few moments, and when he replied, he chose his words carefully. "Some people do."

"Some?"

Sirius looked at his with his eyebrows raised. "You think Voldemort's ever going to change?"

"No, of course not."

Sirius sighed openly, as though he were trying to explain something he didn't quite understand himself. "Some people are capable of changing, take your father for instance, but some people never will."

"And Regulus?" Harry pressed.

Sirius frowned momentarily at Harry's curiosity. "The last time I saw him he hadn't changed a bit."

Harry nodded silently, not liking Sirius' answer one bit. He had been hoping that Sirius might have had complete faith in his only brother, that Sirius might have believed that he could have changed, that he could have turned away from Voldemort.

"Why all the questions about Regulus?" Sirius asked.

"I dunno," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he tried to think of a reason. "Just wondering what it might be like to have a brother. That's all."

"Well," Sirius muttered, disapproving of Harry looking at he and Regulus as an example. "If you want to know what it's like to have a sibling, I wouldn't use my family as an example. If you want to know what having a sibling is like, you should look at the Weasleys. That's how life with your parents would have been."

"Right," Harry replied solidly, knowing that Sirius was not likely to talk about his family any longer. Accepting defeat, he stayed silent as the two of them stood side by side, idly looking at the tapestry before them, and Harry was relieved when Sirius broke the silence.

"There's something I want to show you," he told Harry. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Harry nodded as Sirius quickly left the drawing room, going upstairs. Alone again, Harry slowly turned around and sat down on the couch, resting his chin in his hand as he thought. Looking at the Black family tapestry again, Harry was certain that RAB had to be Regulus Black. There was no other logical explanation for the presence of one of Voldemort's Horcruxes in this house of all places. Screwing his eyes tight momentarily, Harry thought back to the previous night when Ron and Hermione had brought the Horcrux into his room, and he tried to remember where they had found it.

Hadn't Ron said he found it in Kreacher's cupboard? Harry sighed as he opened his eyes. That too made sense, Kreacher had probably found the necklace when he was scavenging throughout the various items that Sirius had been trying to be rid of. He must have hidden it in his cupboard among the other trinkets and keepsakes he had salvaged from his masters rampage of Grimmauld Place.

Sirius returned quickly, his arrival startling Harry. He looked up as Sirius approached him with his hand clenched around something Harry couldn't see. Unsure of what to say, Sirius opened his hand and revealed a short silver chain.

"This was your mother's," he said nervously, holding the chain out for Harry.

Frowning slightly, Harry hesitantly took the silver chain from Sirius, and was surprised to find that it was heavier than he expected. Sirius stood in front of him awkwardly as he traced the contours of the links, the small rubies and diamonds glistening in the dim light. "My mother's?"

"Yeah," Sirius clarified, sitting down beside Harry before continuing. "Your dad gave it to her after you were born."

"Whoa," Harry muttered, not knowing what else he could say. He stared at the bracelet in his hands, completely enthralled by it. In his mind's eye, he pictured his father presenting it to his mother soon after he had been born, and found himself smiling as he pictured was had surely been a happy period in his parent's lives. Seeing Harry smile for the first time in weeks, Sirius couldn't help but smile as well, glad that he had been able to distract him from his pain.

"I don't understand," Harry said quietly. "How did you get this?"

Sirius' smile faltered momentarily. "It's a long story," he replied, avoiding the question.

"We have all night," Harry pressed, looking up.

Hesitating for a moment, Sirius smiled grimly and began to speak. "When Dumbledore told your parents about the prophecy, they went straight into hiding. They packed a few things and left, and we performed the Fidelius charm the very next day."

Harry frowned as he looked back down at the bracelet. "That doesn't explain how you got this."

"Well," Sirius began awkwardly. "You parents asked me to take some of their things from their house, this bracelet included. They worried that Voldemort might attack there, and that their things could be lost."

"What did you do with them?"

"I put them in my Gringotts vault," Sirius explained. "I didn't have a key to theirs, you see."

"Oh," Harry nodded, turning back to his mothers bracelet.

"I also have their wedding rings."

"Their rings?" Harry asked in surprise. "They weren't wearing them when they-"

"No," Sirius interrupted him, as though he didn't want Harry to openly acknowledge their death. He smiled to himself before explaining further. "When your mum was pregnant, she took her rings off because her hands swelled, and so your dad took his off also."

"They never put them back on?"

Sirius shook his head again. "No, your mum said her rings still felt too tight. She never got around to having them resized."

Smiling, Harry looked back at the bracelet again, his chest filling with a strange sense of pride that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was rare that Sirius would talk about his parents so openly, normally it was Remus who talked about them. He thought of the photo album that Hagrid had given him so many years ago, the one kept safely in his trunk upstairs that Remus had slowly added more and more pictures to, and he knew he should take another look at it. It had been too long since he had looked through it last.

"Well, that wasn't such a long story," Harry chided, unable to remove the smile from his face.

Sirius smiled back at him for a moment, before becoming serious again. He slowly reached out and gently took Harry's hand again, squeezing it firmly. "Thanks."

"For what?" Harry asked in confusion, his smile fading.

"For talking to me," Sirius replied gratefully. "For letting me in, even if it was just for a few minutes."

Harry nodded and looked at the ground uncomfortably, remembering what he had told Sirius of his abduction. He didn't have to ask Sirius to keep what he had said between the two of them, he knew that he could trust him with this. Reluctantly, Harry raised his hand and held the bracelet out for Sirius to take back.

Sirius immediately shook his head. "You should keep that now," he said. "Your mum would have liked that."

Harry nodded and quickly pocketed the bracelet as he stood up. "Dinner's probably ready," he said offhandedly, knowing that it wouldn't take Mrs Weasley long to cook up another feast. As if on cue, Sirius' stomach rumbled loudly, and they both laughed, the awkward tension dissipating as they both descended the stairs, their hearts feeling light after their time spent together. Dinner was indeed ready when they entered the kitchen, and Harry quickly sat down next to Ron, pretending to be interested in the Montrose Magpies cheating scandal, when in fact his mind was elsewhere.

It had been far too easy to catch the worried look that Remus gave Sirius when they had entered the kitchen, and Harry had been filled with a sense of dread as they sat down at the far end of the table together, talking quietly amongst themselves. As he slowly ate another small meal Harry subtly watched the two men, wondering what had gotten Remus looking so worried. Harry cast his eyes around the kitchen, and was surprised to find that Tonks was not with them.

"Where's Tonks?" Harry murmured to Hermione, who sat beside him.

"I don't know," she answered with a frown. "She was here this afternoon."

His unease growing, Harry looked around the kitchen again, Tonk's absence worrying him. He knew that Kingsley and Mad-Eye had left hours ago, presumably to take Percy into hiding, but he thought that Tonks had stayed behind. Brushing the hair off his face, Harry tried to focus on the conversation around him, on trying to eat everything on his plate, but he couldn't help but glance up at Remus and Sirius again. He then glanced across the table and saw that Mr and Mrs Weasley had similar expressions of unease. Abruptly, Mr Weasley turned and looked at Harry, surprised to find himself under his worried eyes. He instantly wiped the look of unease from his face and smiled happily, hoping to distract Harry before he became suspicious.

Harry forced himself to smile back, and then looked back down at his plate hastily, forcing himself to focus on his dinner. He was probably imagining things. He quickly ate as much as he could and stood up from his chair, carrying his plate towards the sink. Sirius and Remus were still talking quietly, and Harry hoped to catch part of their conversation as he walked past them, but they stopped talking. As he came closer, Sirius snapped his head up and immediately looked at Harry's plate, catching his arm as he tried to walk past.

"You haven't eaten much," he quietly said in concern.

"I'm full," he muttered before walking past him and heading to the sink, glancing over his shoulder as Sirius followed him, his chair scraping against the stone floor. Scraping his plate into the bin, Harry didn't have to wait long for Sirius to argue with him.

"How can you be full?" Sirius asked discreetly, not bothering to keep the disapproving tone from his voice. "You've hardly eaten anything today."

"I'm fine, Sirius," Harry muttered in frustration as he rinsed his plate before he began to fill the sink with hot soapy water.

"There's plenty of food," Sirius added, completely ignoring what Harry said. "Go back and have seconds, please."

"I told you," Harry replied solidly. "I've had enough to eat." Out of habit, Harry removed his wand from his pocket and began charming the pots and pans to begin washing themselves.

"You've lost weight, Harry," Sirius whispered imperatively. "I can see it, and what have I told you?" Forcing himself to keep his anger in check, Sirius took Harry's wand from him and quickly pocketed it. "Stop using so much magic, it's no wonder you're so tired."

"What are you gonna do, Sirius?" Harry hissed as he looked him in the eye, ignoring his last remark. "Force me to eat, like they did?"

As though Harry had slapped him, Sirius' face fell and he stepped back from Harry, his words hitting him hard. Guilt quickly replaced his frustration, and Harry hastily apologised. "Sorry, I didn't mean that."

Not replying, Sirius slowly turned and walked back to his chair, sitting down again as though defeated. Guilt coursing through his veins, Harry tried to think of what to say, but reluctantly turned back to the stone sink and vigorously attacked the dirty pots and pans by hand. The pain in his shoulders and back became more pronounced with the repetitive movement, and Harry focused on that rather than the look on his godfathers face.

Seeing his friend washing up, Ron forced his dinner down as quickly as he could and brought his plate to the sink, drawing his wand. "I'll never understand why you insist on doing this the muggle way," he said as he charmed the pot and pans again. "It's so boring."

"Yeah," Harry muttered, his hands floating in the hot water as the brush he had been using slipped from his hands and began cleaning pot of its own accord. "Thanks."

Ron grinned and rubbed his stomach appreciatively. "Dessert looks good," he said as he walked back to the table.

Harry looked down at his hands that were still floating in his hot water, and was suddenly reminded of the Inferi he and Dumbledore had battled only a handful of weeks ago. He immediately withdrew his hand and wiped them dry with a tea towel as he thought hard to himself. Making his decision, he thanked Mrs Weasley and slowly ascended the staircase, looking imperatively back down at Sirius. Catching his eye, Sirius knew what his godson wanted, and he put down his knife and fork before following him up the stairs.

Waiting in the dimly lit hallway of the first floor, Harry's pulse quickened as the feeling of unease swept over him again. The moment Sirius closed the door to the basement, Harry asked "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Sirius emphasised.

"Then why is Remus so worried?" Harry retaliated. "Why is Mr Weasley so worried?"

"They're not worried," Sirius denied. "Harry, everything is fine."

"What's going on?" Harry repeated lowly, Sirius' denial furthering his suspicions.

Sirius didn't reply, and Harry didn't press him, knowing that he would answer in a few moments. Nervously, Sirius thrust his hands into his pockets, wishing that he didn't have to tell Harry this. He didn't want to worry him unnecessarily. "There's someone outside."

"What?"

"It's alright," Sirius assured him hurriedly. "It's alright, Tonks is on the front step keeping an eye on them."

"What do you mean there's someone outside? Who is it?"

Again, Sirius remained silent for a few moments, as though wanting to avoiding burdening Harry with something else to worry about. "Remus thinks it could be Fenrir."

"Greyback?" Harry asked in shock, a shiver running down his spine. "He's outside?"

"Everything is fine," Sirius assured him. He gripped the top of Harry's arms and rubbed them gently, hoping to calm him down before he got upset. "It's under control."

"How long has he been out there?"

"A few hours," Sirius admitted.

"A few hours?" Harry said in dismay, stepping back from Sirius. "Are you kidding?"

"No," Sirius said, breathing out slowly. He turned away and began pacing, running his fingers through his hair apprehensively.

Thoughts racing through his head, Harry turned and quickly walked down the hallway as soon as Sirius' back was turned, heading for the drawing room where he and Sirius had been talking. Turning around again, Sirius realised where Harry was going and hastily gave chase, knowing exactly what he was going to do.

"Harry, stop!" Sirius said loudly as he followed him into the drawing room.

"I just want to see him," Harry said as he headed for the window. He gasped in pain as Sirius grabbed his arm and wrenched him back into the hall way, pain shooting through his shoulder and back.

"You have to stay away from the windows."

"I just want to see him," Harry repeated, Sirius' grip on his arm painfully tight.

"No, he could see you."

"Are the wards still up?" Harry reasoned.

"Yes," Sirius assured him.

"Then there's no way he could see me," Harry argued, trying unsuccessfully to wrench his arm from Sirius' tight grasp.

"I won't risk it, Harry," Sirius said imperatively, grasping Harry's other arm just as tightly. "Not again."

"It's not like I'm going to stick my head out the window!" Harry argued in frustration.

"No," Sirius replied, squeezing Harry's arms. "He already thinks you're in here, we don't need to confirm it for him."

"Let me go," Harry said lowly, his lower arms throbbing painfully. He tried to wrench his arms from Sirius' grasp, but he held on tighter, unaware of Harry's impending panic.

"I won't let that mongrel hurt you again."

"Let me go!'' Harry said forcefully, louder this time.

Shocked, Sirius released Harry's arms and allowed him to push him away. Not hesitating, Harry quickly slipped past Sirius and went into the drawing room, heading straight for the window. He could hear Sirius behind him as he paused with his hand on the dusty curtain, before slowly pulling it open and looking out onto the dark Muggle street before him.

Harry frowned, unable to see anything through the dark night and the heavy rain, and he waited impatiently for his eyes to adjust. He moved closer to the window and focused on a tall shadow standing beneath the dim muggle street lamp, his heart rate increasing. He studied the shadow intensely for a few moments, the slightly hunched back telling Harry that it was indeed Fenrir Greyback.

As soon as he realised this, Harry wished that he hadn't looked, that he had allowed Sirius to stop him. The night he had been recaptured flashed before his eyes as he distinctly remembered Greyback's overwhelming smell of sweat, dirt and blood that had almost overcome him. He remembered how he had tried to run, how easily Greyback had pinned him helplessly to the ground, clawing at his face and chest. He remembered Bill's mauled face and he gripped the windowsill tightly, unconsciously touching the wound on his neck.

Standing behind him, Sirius reached over him to closed the curtain and then gently pulled Harry away from the window, relieved when he didn't fight back.

"What is he doing here?" Harry asked. He realised his hands were shaking and he thrust them into his pockets.

"We don't know," Sirius said quietly as they went back into the dark hallway. "He can't get in here, but as soon as Mad-Eye and Kingsley get back, we're going somewhere else."

Nodding in acknowledgement Harry looked back at the window, the curtain shielding Greyback from view. Seeing the direction of his gaze, Sirius stepped in front of him and gently ushered him back into the hallway and towards the sitting room at the back of the house where he reluctantly sat down.

Tension filled Grimmauld Place, and became even thicker when Ron, Hermione and Ginny were told of Greyback's presence. At Mr Weasley's request to keep everyone together, the remainder of the evening was spent quietly in the living room, no one really speaking as they each pondered the question that none of them were willing to ask. What was Voldemort's servant doing in front of their safe house? Were they really safe from attack?

Lying on one of the couches with Ginny, Harry fought his tiredness as sleep became more and more inviting, wishing that he could be awake and alert at such a tense period of time. As he felt himself slipping, Harry roused himself each time by tightening his embrace on Ginny, who had fallen asleep some time ago, the lateness of the hour beating her. He wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve the level of support she was showing him, despite the dark cloud of danger that seemed to loom over his head every day, and he wondered if it could possibly last, if there would ever become a time that his future would become too much for her to deal with.

Wanting to be alone for a few minutes, Harry carefully unwound his arm from Ginny's waist and sat up, standing up cautiously so that he didn't wake her. Ignoring the curious look he received from Sirius, Harry left the room and headed for the kitchen staircase, breathing a sigh of relief when he was out of everyone's sight. The staircase groaned as he descended into the dark kitchen, and he felt a cold draught coming from the large stone fireplace, sending a shiver down his spine. He went straight to the cupboard and withdrew a glass, filling it with water from the kitchen sink. Leaning against the counter, Harry drank the water, the dull headache that had recently developed somewhat fading away. He held the empty glass in his hand for a moment, his mind blissfully free from thought.

Dropping the glass, Harry gasped loudly and clutched his left forearm, agony shooting through the dark mark without warning. Panicking, he clenched his jaw and tried to withhold the low groan that escaped him, the agony not subsiding, burning its way through his entire arm.

"Harry?" Mr Weasley asked in concern from the top of the stairs, having followed to check on him. He hastily descended the staircase and approached him, avoiding the shattered glass on the floor. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Harry denied uselessly, clutching his arm even more tightly as the pain seemed to increase. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, his breathing ragged as he tried to think, desperate to stop the pain.

"What's hurting? Your arm?"

"No!" he said desperately. Before Harry could stop him, Mr Weasley ignored his denial and quickly brushed Harry's hand away from his arm and drew back the sleeve, intent on finding the cause of his pain. Upon seeing the dark mark burnt into his flesh, Mr Weasley did not gasp, but stared at it open mouthed in horror before looking up at Harry.

"It's not-" Harry began, trying to find the right words through the haze of pain. "It's not what you think! I couldn't stop them."

At his words, Mr Weasley blinked and shook his head as though clearing the thoughts from his head. "Of course it's not," he said hastily, trying to recover from the shock of seeing such a mark on Harry's arm. "Why is it hurting?"

"I don't know," Harry ground out through his clenched teeth. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the pain vanished, leaving Harry trembling in shock. They both stared at it intently, and Harry realised in horror that the ink had become even darker than before, and it seemed to have grown, taking up almost the entire length of his forearm.

"You don't think…" Mr Weasley said quietly, trailing off as though he didn't want to express his thoughts out loud. Harry looked at him hard for a moment before realising what Mr Weasley meant. He looked towards the curtained window for a moment, remembering the reason for all the tension of that evening, remembering why everyone had been so worried. Were there more death eaters outside?

Suddenly the candles went out, bathing the two of them in complete darkness. They froze for a moment, neither of them knowing what to do. Cold with fear, Mr Weasley pulled himself together. Placing his hand firmly on Harry's shoulder he withdrew his wand and lit it, providing light as he quickly steered Harry out of the kitchen and back upstairs to where the others were.

The sitting room was illuminated by wand light when they entered, and the inhabitants were eerily silent, their wands raised in readiness. Mr Weasley crossed the room to Sirius, whispering quietly in his ear.

"What's going on?" Ron asked the room at large before looking at Harry.

"I have no idea," Harry lied, not wanting to cause panic, especially if he were wrong.

As he said this, Sirius marched straight to his side, withdrawing Harry's wand from his pocket and handing it back to him. "Are you alright?" he asked imperatively.

Relieved to have his wand back, Harry nodded as he lit it. "Where's Remus?"

"He's looking out the back," Sirius replied, turning to look at the patio door in concern. Silence fell among them again and they all remained motionless, on full alert as they waited for something to happen.

The front door slammed shut with a loud bang, and hasty footsteps came down the hallway towards them before Tonks appeared, her wand raised and her eyes calculating. "I want everyone in the kitchen," she commanded. "Now, right now."

"What is it?" Harry asked, not moving an inch as Mrs Weasley stifled a panicked gasp before ushering her children and Hermione into the hallway.

"Just move," Sirius said, grasping the top of his arm firmly.

"Are they here?" As Harry spoke, the back patio door opened in a flourish to reveal Remus as he rushed inside, slamming the door shut.

"They're here," he said in a rush as he hastily locked the door. "I don't know how they did it, but the wards are almost down, the house is surrounded."

Without another word, Sirius pulled Harry towards the hallway and followed Mr Weasley towards the kitchen, intent on sending him through the floo net work the moment they reached the kitchen fireplace. Almost as though he were in a daze, Harry allowed Sirius to steer him down the hall way, hardly believing that there were death eaters outside, that they were slowly breaking down each of the protective wards cast by Dumbledore himself.

"Harry!" Ron cried as he pushed past his father and came back down the hallway. "Harry, where is it?"

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Ronald!" Mr Weasley shouted, grasping Ron's collar and forcing him down the staircase as he closely followed.

"Where is it?" Ron yelled up the staircase again. "Where did you put it?"

Harry froze mid step, realisation crashing down on him in an enormous wave as he suddenly remembered. Slytherin's locket was still upstairs. From the kitchen below him Ron yelled again, voicing the very thought that came into Harry's head.

"We can't let him find it!"

Making a split second decision, Harry wrenched his arm from Sirius' grasp and shoved him into the wall as hard as he could, enabling his quick escape. Barely hearing the yell of protest, Harry took off down the hallway as fast as he could, reaching the stairs and climbing them two at a time, his mind focused on one thing only. Finding Slytherin's locket before Voldemort did.

"Harry!" Sirius bellowed as he quickly pursued him up the stairs. "Harry, get back here this minute! We have to get you out of here!"

Sirius caught up to him quickly, grabbing the back of his jumper as he reached the first floor. Stumbling as Sirius pulled harshly, Harry spun around and raised his wand, not having time to explain. "Let me go!"

Barely feeling the painful hex that Harry cast, Sirius knew he must use any force necessary, and he pushed Harry to the ground, who hit his head on the hard floor, dropping his wand as white dots appeared before him. Wasting no time at all, Sirius loomed over him and grabbed his wrists, attempting to roughly pull him to his feet. For a moment, the image of Draco Malfoy standing above him as he lay with his head underwater flashed before him, and he unconsciously lashed out, kicking Sirius hard in the stomach just as he had done to Malfoy. Stumbling, Sirius released Harry's wrists, allowing him to jump straight back to his feet.

Not looking back, Harry dashed upstairs again, his desperation masking the pain in his torso, and in the back of his mind he was dimly aware that his scar was hurting. Pushing this all aside, Harry burst through his bedroom door with Sirius catching up to him, and forcefully threw the lid of his trunk open. Inhibited by his panic, Harry tore through the contents and tried to remember where he had put Slytherin's locket. Books, shoes and clothing were all tossed out of the trunk in his haste, but still he could not find it. Where had he put it?

"What the hell are you doing?" Sirius bellowed as he ran into the room. He headed straight for Harry and grabbed his arm again, trying to wrench him away from the trunk.

Defeated, he allowed Sirius to pull him to his feet, and they were halfway to the door when Harry's desperation peaked again. He could not allow Voldemort to find the locket. He turned back and pushed past Sirius, rushing back to his trunk and turning it on its side, the contents tumbling out onto the floor with a loud crash. On his hands and knees Harry clawed through the contents, spotting the Horcrux just in time when Sirius grabbed his arm again. Finally grasping the silver chain Harry allowed Sirius to hoist him to his feet, and he slipped the locket into his pocket as they both started running, Sirius' tight grip on his arm never wavering. Later, Harry would wonder how neither of them managed to trip over as they ran down the flights of stairs, neither of them slowing down, taking the steps two at a time as they rushed to reach the fireplace in the kitchen.

"Wait!" Harry said as they reached the first floor again, pulling against Sirius as he reached toward the ground for his wand that he had dropped before. As he quickly leant down to grab his wand a loud echoing bang reverberated through the entire house, the walls trembling with the force. Instinctively, Sirius pushed Harry back down to the ground and threw himself on top of him, wrapping his arms around him protectively.

The tremors stopped almost as quickly as they had started, and a thick haze filled the air, as though the force of the spell had rocked the house's very foundations. Harry remained on the ground, Sirius' arms wrapped around him and forcing him to stay still, as though he were expecting another bang. It seemed incredibly quiet without the roar of rushing blood in his ears, and as the two of them cautiously raised their heads, the only thing that Harry could hear was Sirius' ragged breathing. Even Mrs Black's portrait was silent.

Straightening up and forcing himself to remain calm, Sirius grasped Harry by the arm again and slowly pulled him to his feet. "C'mon," he said as he ushered Harry in front of him, hastily descending the staircase to the ground floor, the house remaining eerily silent. They reached the ground floor and they headed straight for the basement door, towards the only fireplace that held floo powder. They had almost reached the basement staircase when the front door opened wide with a loud bang.

Freezing mid step, Harry gasped as he saw the unmistakable silhouette of Fenrir Greyback towering in the doorway of Grimmauld Place. Harry couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, and time seemed to stand still as they all stood rooted to the spot. He knew what Greyback was here for, he had known that it wouldn't be long before Voldemort made another attempt to capture him, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. It hadn't even been a week since he had escaped him.

Greyback slowly advanced down the hallway towards them, and even in the darkness Harry could see the twisted smile upon his face, and he could smell the familiar odour of blood and sweat.

"Harry, run!" Sirius yelled as he pushed him towards the staircase before dashing down the hallway towards Greyback, pocketing his wand.

"No!" Harry cried as he realised what Sirius was doing. Finally able to move, Harry raised his wand and made to follow him. "Sirius, don't!"

Harry had just enough time to watch in horror as Sirius quickly transformed into Padfoot, leaping at Greyback and knocking him over with a loud bark before someone grabbed his arm and wrenched him out of the hallway and down the basement staircase out of sight. "Remus! No!" Harry yelled forcefully as he tried to pull away, desperate to help Sirius. He couldn't let him be hurt. "Sirius! He's-"

"He'll be fine," Remus yelled back as he forced Harry down the staircase and into the kitchen with him. He was surprisingly stronger than Harry had expected, overpowering him easily. "Just get out of here."

"No, I won't leave him!" He could hear everything now. A ferocious growl came from upstairs as Greyback and Sirius thrashed around above them, the laughter and calls of the death eaters outside echoing down into the basement also.

"Just do as you're told!" Dragging Harry toward the fireplace, Remus grabbed a large handful of floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace, emerald flames bursting into life with a loud roar. "Get in."

"No, wait!" Harry pleaded as Remus pushed him into the spacious fireplace, the emerald flames warm around him. He tried to grab onto the edge of the brickwork, but Remus had called out the name of his destination so fast he hadn't even heard it, and before he could do anything to stop it he was sent flying through the floo network. The familiar roar of fireplaces rushing past him was deafening, and he closed his eyes as he waited for it to all stop, the panic he felt not subsiding even now that he was out of danger.

His feet hit the ground hard as the floo network deposited him at his destination, and as he stumbled out of the fireplace to cries of relief he saw the Weasleys, Tonks and Hermione waiting for him in worry.

"Oh! Thank Merlin!" Mrs Weasley cried.

"Harry! You're okay!" Ginny exclaimed as she hastily embraced him, Hermione following her. "What happened?"

As he hugged her back he didn't reply, staying silent in shock for a few moments as Ginny released him. He turned around and looked at the fireplace expectantly, filled with fear when neither Sirius or Remus returned.

"Harry," Tonks said imperatively as he distractedly hugged Hermione. "What happened there?"

He tore his eyes away from the fireplace and looked at Tonks, not knowing exactly what to say. "Greyback was there," he choked out, his fear inhibiting him. "Sirius, he-"

"Are they okay?" Tonks interrupted.

"I don't know," Harry replied in fear. They all looked back towards the fireplace and waiting with dread, all of them fearing the absolute worst. Ginny slipped her hand into his and gripped it tightly, and he realised that he had been shaking.

"Hey," Ron muttered as he came and stood by Harry's side. "Did you get it?"

Harry nodded mutely and didn't even look up, not remotely caring about the Horcrux any more, not when Remus and Sirius were in such danger because of him. His head spinning, Harry held his breath, waiting for something to happen, as he looked at his surroundings for the first time, taking in the small cottage that they were inside of before turning back to the fireplace. It suddenly burst into roaring emerald green flames, and Remus suddenly appeared, stumbling out with his wand raised to attack. Harry breathed a small sigh of relief as everybody else cheered, and upon seeing that everything was safe Remus rushed forward to Tonks who wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck as she held on tightly. When the fireplace burst into flames again Harry finally relaxed, unable to stop the smile of relief that overcame him as Sirius burst out, coughing and spreading soot and ash over the floor.

"Sirius!" Mr Weasley exclaimed in relief, rushing over to him and brushing him off, checking for injuries. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," he coughed as he straightened up for the first time, and Harry let go of Ginny's hand and moved forward, stopping in his tracks when he saw the blood smeared across Sirius' face and neck. Immediately looking around the room to determine Harry's safety, Sirius' face was a mixture of utter relief and anger when he saw that he was safe.

"What the hell was that about?" Sirius bellowed, advancing towards Harry as his anger outweighed his relief.

"What?" Harry asked as he stepped backwards, stalling for time while he thought. He couldn't reveal the Horcruxes to Sirius, especially not now in front of so many others who didn't know.

"Why did you go back?"

"Sirius," Remus said as he rushed to Sirius' side, trying to calm him down before things got out of hand. "Let him explain."

"Yes, Harry," Sirius added scathingly, his anger taking control. "Please explain why you would do something so stupid. Do you want Voldemort to capture you again? Do you want him to torture you again?"

Harry froze for the second time that evening, not knowing what to say or do as he realised just how close he had come to going through all that again. He was acutely aware of everyone in the room, and he glanced at Ron and Hermione as though they would tell him what to say. "I had to find something," he replied, the words sounding even more stupid out loud than they had in his head.

"What, Harry?" Sirius yelled again, moving closer and closer to him. "What was so damn important that you would risk you're life for it?"

Hesitating again, Harry stared at Sirius as his mind raced frantically, trying to find an explanation. Knowing that he had no other choice, Harry reluctantly slipped his hand into his pocket, his heart pounding furiously in his throat as he withdrew a silver chain.

Upon seeing the silver chain that Harry withdrew, Sirius looked as though he had been slapped in the face, and he was rendered speechless as he tried to comprehend what Harry was telling him. "You risked your life, for a piece of jewellery?" he clarified furiously, hoping that there had been some mistake.

"You said it was my mother's!" Harry accused as he held out her silver bracelet, trying to defend himself now that he had deflected the attention from the Horcrux. Beside him, Ron and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "What was I supposed to do? Just let them take it?"

"Yes!" Sirius yelled furiously. "You should have left it. Do you honestly think your mother would give a damn about a piece of jewellery? You could have been captured again, or worse!"

"I couldn't leave it!" Harry argued, thankful that Tonks quickly ushered everyone else into another room. The only person who remained was Remus, hovering in the doorway like a referee, unable to take sides in this argument. "It's the only thing of hers that I have!"

Sirius laughed coldly before speaking again, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So you'd rather be tortured? God, Harry, if you wanted that all you had to do is say so! We've only got, what? Twenty something people in the Order working to protect you, I might as well just call them off! And I'm sure Voldemort would happily refrain from killing you until we can rescue you again!"

"Sirius, just stop," Harry pleaded. "You know that's not what I meant, I-"

"Get it into your bloody head, Harry!" Sirius yelled again, ignoring what he said. "These people are trying to kill you! I try Harry, but I can't protect you from everything, especially not yourself!"

"I'm not talking to you like this," Harry said in frustration, turning to go.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Sirius demanded, grabbing his arm and wrenching him back towards him.

"Let me go!" Harry said loudly, struggling against his tight grip. "Sirius! Stop it!"

"How could you be so damn selfish, so reckless?"

"Oh! Reckless?" Harry asked as he stopped struggling momentarily, furious that Sirius had the nerve to reprimand him for that of all things. "You're one to talk about being reckless! Didn't you try to murder someone, and then let yourself be arrested?"

For a moment, Sirius looked as though he might hit him, and Harry flinched as Sirius brought his hand to his face, gripping his chin and forcing him to look him in the eye. "And look at what it cost me. I spent twelve years paying for my recklessness, and I'll be damned if I let you do the same."

"If you hadn't followed me, it would have been fine!" Harry retorted, determined to maintain the upper hand. "I would have gotten out in time!"

"How do you know that? Harry, if he gets to you again, he won't hesitate to kill you, and he won't make it easy for you, " Sirius replied, releasing his chin but clenching his arm even tighter. "Did you honestly just expect me to do nothing?"

Harry hesitated before words came tumbling out of his mouth, words that he was sure to regret in the near future. "I don't need you! I don't need your help!"

Glaring at him furiously, Sirius released his arm and walked away from him, moving towards the hallway.

"Are you listening to me for once?" Harry yelled again. "I don't need you!"

"Fine, Harry!" Sirius yelled back at him as he turned around in the doorway. "If you say you don't  
need me, stop coming to me for help!"

"Fine!" Harry retorted as Sirius left the room and stormed down the hallway, slamming what sounded like a front door. Finally alone, Harry realised how much he was shaking, how fast his heart was pounding in the aftermath of his biggest fight with Sirius yet. He slipped his mothers bracelet back into his pocket and withdrew Slytherin's locket, his hands shaking so badly he almost couldn't see the ornate S carved into the silver. Satisfied and relieved that it was safe with him, Harry slipped it back into his pocket, and looked around the small living area just as Remus came inside.

"Where did he go?" Harry asked quietly, putting his hands in his pockets.

"He's outside," Remus replied as he walked over to him. "C'mon, sit down," he continued, motioning to a small lounge that Harry hadn't yet noticed.

Sitting down gratefully, Harry buried his face in his hands as Remus sat next to him. In his mind he replayed the fight he had just had, wondering when it was that his anger had peaked. "I've really screwed up, haven't I?" Harry asked as he slowly raised his head.

"Yes," Remus replied. "You certainly have."

"You're not angry?"

"Oh, I am. Believe me, Harry, I am. I don't know what possessed you to run off like that, but it's done now. You're safe, and there's no going back to change things now."

Looking at Remus properly, he noticed a deep cut on his face that had not been there before. "What happened to you?"

"Greyback," Remus replied. "Fortunately I'm already a werewolf, so there's not much else that he can do to me."

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, shame coursing through his veins. At the time he knew what he was doing was reckless, but he had no other choice. Now his actions just seemed plain stupid.

"You should be. Harry, it's time for you to realise that your actions don't just affect you. They affect the people around you as well."

Harry nodded, hoping that at least Remus would forgive him. He glanced up at the nearest window and wondered if he should follow Sirius outside, if he should try to apologise, to beg forgiveness for his idiocy.

"Just leave him," Remus said quietly, knowing what Harry was thinking.

Nodding again, Harry looked away from the window and asked, "Where are we?"

Remus sighed for a moment before looking around, as though remembering the face of a familiar old friend. "This is my house," he replied simply. "I haven't lived here for quite some time, as you can tell."

Harry nodded, glancing around at the tattered and dusty furniture, which had obviously not been used for a long time.

"Let's get you to bed," Remus said as he stood up. "It's been a long day. The others are in the first room down the hall, on the right. You can go and join them."

Harry stood up and not another word was spoken between them as he slowly walked into the hallway, glancing back at the window over his shoulder in hopes of seeing Sirius. He slipped into the hallway and looked around, and when satisfied that he wouldn't be seen, he pulled Slytherin's locket from his pocket and quickly slipped it over his neck. The locket felt cold against his skin as he tucked it underneath his jumper and tee shirt, but he didn't care. After what just happened he couldn't leave it lying around again, and this was the only safe place that it would be where it was with him the entire time. Satisfied that it was safe, Harry continued down the small hallway and slipped into the first door on the right, and found his friends still awake and waiting for him.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked as Harry closed the door behind him.

"No," he admitted with a short laugh. "I don't Sirius is going to speak to me again."

"He will," Hermione assured him as she climbed into her sleeping bag on the floor.

Kicking off his shoes Harry too opened his sleeping bag, Ron and Ginny following suit as he looked around the room, realising that this must have once been Remus' office. He took off his glasses and put them with his shoes as Ginny pulled her sleeping bag next to his, laying down and getting comfortable before reaching out her hand for his. Seeing what she wanted, Harry reached out and slipped his hand into hers, realising that he was still shaking slightly, the adrenaline and anger hadn't worn off.

More quickly than he anticipated, Ron's snores filled the room and Hermione and Ginny's breathing became deep and even, all three of them falling asleep as Harry lay awake. He didn't want to sleep, anticipating another night full of nightmares and flashbacks, and he didn't want to wake up screaming like he had the previous nights, especially when sharing a room as he was. Should he wake up, he wondered if Sirius would even bother to come in.

Harry let out a deep sigh, his heart heavy with worry and sadness. He may have saved the Horcrux from being found, he somehow he may have lost his godfather in the process. Despite the success of saving the Horcrux, Harry couldn't help but wish that he could do it all over again.

A/N When you leave a review, make sure you thank Rachel! Without her enormous contribution, perfection and encouragement, this chapter would still be a work in progress.


	54. Chapter 54

It was early morning when Ron sat up from the floor, his hair tousled and his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness as he tried to figure out what had awoken him. The office was silent for a few moments before Ron heard a familiar sound, one that he had slowly grown accustomed to over the many years of sharing a dormitory with his best friend. On the floor beside him Harry's breathing was ragged with fear, and even in the dark Ron could see the cold sweat that covered his body as he rolled over to his side, facing away from him.

Ron was torn, knowing that he ought to awaken Harry from his nightmare, but unsure of what his friends reaction might be. He had dealt with Harry's nightmares for years, and before now he had always known whether to awaken him or simply let him finish, but somehow this felt different. After all that had happened, Harry's nightmares had surely escalated from the usual ones of Voldemort's resurrection, and Ron didn't know what to do. Doing nothing for the moment, Ron glanced up at his sister and Hermione on the other side of the room, and was glad that they were still sleeping soundly. The last thing Harry needed was an audience.

Harry muttered something unintelligible, catching Ron's attention who slowly leant down closer, trying to understand what Harry was mumbling. As he leant close Harry suddenly rolled over to face him and Ron hastily straightened up, certain that he had awoken his friend. Still asleep and in the midst of his escalating nightmare, Harry groaned as though he were in pain and his hands shot out of his sleeping bag and to his face, as though trying to protect himself.

"No…I won't."

Ron listened, wishing that Harry's nightmare would quickly finish as they sometimes did, but as Harry's breathing started coming in short ragged gasps, Ron knew that would not be the case tonight.

"Stop it….leave him alone….Ron, where are you?"

Ron's heart seemed to skip a beat as he heard this, realising that Harry was dreaming about him. His hands clenched together as he thought of what happened that night. He knew it was absolutely nothing compared to what Harry had been through, and it had felt as though it were over almost as soon as it began, but that hadn't made the last few weeks any easier. Thankfully though he seemed to have bounced back remarkably well, suffering only a few nightmares that had been easy enough to deal with. They were nothing compared to the one that he was witnessing now.

"Ginny, no," Harry said clearly, his voice louder and panicked as he began thrashing around in his sleeping bag. "Don't hurt her!"

Harry gasped loudly and Ron could see that he had clamped his mouth firmly shut, leaning away from Ron as his arms covered his face momentarily. Ron waited in silence for Harry to say something else, still praying that his nightmare might resolve itself. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw someone on the other side of the room slowly sitting up, and he knew that he had left it too long, that he should have awoken Harry the moment he had heard him.

"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly, her voice still thick with sleep. "Are you alright?"

"He's fine, go back to sleep," Ron hissed at her before turning to Harry, reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder. "Harry, wake up."

At his touch Harry groaned again and brushed his hand away, leaning in the opposite direction. Realising what was happening Ginny pulled herself out of her sleeping bag and made to come closer, stopping when Ron snapped at her, "Go away! He's fine."

"He's not fine," Ginny argued back at him. "Wake him up."

Ron turned back to Harry and shook his shoulder again. "Harry! Harry wake up, it's okay, just wake up."

When Ron touched his shoulder Harry sat bolt upright and roughly pushed his hand away, gasping for breath as he looked from Ron to Ginny in shock. "You all right, mate?" Ron asked cautiously, not wanting to startle him further. "It was just a dream."

Harry breathed heavily for a moment, waking up properly before he hastily nodded his head, looking away from them in embarrassment. "Yeah," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He glanced up at the closed door, expecting it to swing open at any minute as Sirius rushed to awaken him, before he remembered their fight. He cringed outwardly at the awful things he had said, wondering if he could ever truly take them back.

"I didn't know you were still having nightmares," Ron muttered as Ginny stood up and went over to Hermione, who had awoken wondering what all the noise was about. "I guess I should have realised," he trailed off sheepishly.

"It's fine," Harry muttered off hand, still breathless. He raised his knees to his chest and tried to focus on calming his breathing and not the brief flashes from his nightmare that still appeared before his eyes. Unconsciously, he ran his hand around the back of his neck as though checking for some kind of ailment. He could hear Ginny relaying what had happened to a sleepy Hermione, convincing her to go back to sleep.

"You should go back to sleep too," Harry echoed Ginny, looking at the wall opposite him. "Thanks, though."

"But, Harry-"

"It's fine," he interrupted. "Just go back to sleep."

Ignoring any further protest Harry lay back down and folded an arm behind his head, shutting his eyes in determination. There was silence, but Harry could picture Ron and Ginny gesturing back and forth, wondering if they should act any further. There was some shuffling before Ginny slipped into Ron's sleeping bag beside him and lay down, edging closer to Harry as he opened his eyes.

"Your Mum will have a fit," Harry said, forcing a smile as he remembered the look on Mrs Weasleys face when she had checked on them earlier in the night, immediately moving Ginny away from Harry to the other side of the room.

"Yeah? I hope it's a big one," Ginny replied indifferently. She pulled her hand from the sleeping bag and reached for Harry's before he could pull away, interlinking their fingers and squeezing.

For a moment Harry forgot about his nightmare and he felt blissfully peaceful, as though the past few weeks were just a figment of his imagination. The feeling passed quickly, and he squeezed Ginny's hand back, grateful for it. "Sirius hates me," he murmured quietly.

"He doesn't," Ginny responded sincerely. "He's just mad."

"I don't think he'll forgive me for what I said."

"He will," she promised in reply. "Just give him some time. I think he'll be more forgiving than you realise."

Harry rolled over onto his side to face her properly. "What makes you say that?"

"I wish you could have seen him while you were gone, he was a wreck. There's no way he'll let you go over a stupid fight."

"It wasn't a stupid fight, though. You must have heard what I said."

"Yeah," Ginny replied softly. There was no way any of them could have missed the shouting.

They fell silent for a few minutes, and the only think Harry could hear was the steady breathing of those around him, the lack of snoring telling him that Ron still lay awake on the other side of the room with Hermione. Harry glanced up at the doorway again, a small part of him still hoping that Sirius would come through the door, even though his nightmare was over. His absence left Harry with a strange feeling of loss, one that Ginny couldn't seem to overcome for him.

Tiredness hitting him suddenly, Harry rolled onto his back again and slipped his arm around Ginny's shoulder, allowing her to rest her head on his. Harry sighed, wishing that it were warm enough that he didn't need the sleeping bag, that he could hold Ginny properly, but it never seemed to feel warm enough anymore.

"Harry, what were you dreaming about?" Ginny whispered hesitantly.

He didn't reply, brief flashes of his nightmare flashing before his eyes, still fresh in his mind. Focusing for a moment, he tried to remember exactly what it was about, feeling only a sense of utter confusion as he tried to piece together the flashes of people and words. "Ginny," he began nervously. "I just-"

"It's okay," she interrupted before he went on, turning her head up to look at him. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Harry looked at her appreciatively, glad she wasn't pressing him. "Thanks."

Sitting up slightly, she leant her face closer to his and kissed him gently, not needing words. She broke the kiss and lay back down, resting her head on his shoulder again and slinging her arm around his waist, holding him to her tightly. Relaxing now, Harry rested his cheek on Ginny's head and closed his eyes, glad that he could hold her close. He tried not to think about his nightmare, or about Sirius' absence, preferring to focus on Ginny's slow and even breathing, assuring him that she was still near.

He fell asleep easily this time, feeling significantly calmer than the first time he had, and slept soundly, uninterrupted by nightmares and flashbacks. It wasn't until the next morning when he felt Ginny pulling herself from his loosened grasp that he awoke, opening his eyes blearily. His heart sank as he heard Mrs Weasley's scolding voice, and he wondered how much trouble Ginny would be in for moving back to sleep beside him again.

"What is going on here?" Mrs Weasley said lowly as Ginny sat up. "I told you to stay beside Hermione."

Ginny slowly sat up to face her mother, but didn't move away from Harry. "Harry had a nightmare, Mum," Ginny quietly said as Ron and Hermione slowly arose from their sleeping bags.

"Oh dear," she murmured, softening immediately at the news. Seeing that he was awake, Mrs Weasley rushed over to him and he quickly sat up, not wanting her to fuss all over him. "Are you alright, dear?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, hiding the frustration from his voice.

"Well, what about some calming draught?"

"Honestly," Harry replied, standing up slowly. "I'm fine, I don't need anything."

Mrs Weasley considered his reply for a moment, scrutinising him. "Well, okay then," she replied. "Everybody come downstairs, we need to get moving."

She turned on the spot and left, the four teens sighing with relief. "That could have been worse," Hermione said to Ginny with a smirk.

Ginny laughed with relief as Harry quickly slipped on his shoes and glasses, running his hands through his hair as he straightened up. Ginny quietly slipped her hands around his waist and kissed him on the cheek, but wrapped deep in thought he barely responded. Glancing down at his left arm, he wondered what the dark mark would look like today, if it would still be darker and larger the way it was the night before as it had burned in agony. He desperately wanted to look at it, to see if it had changed, but he knew he couldn't. There was no way he was going to let his friends know what had happened.

"Hey," Ginny said quietly, rubbing his back firmly. "You with us, Harry?"

Harry turned to her, suddenly realising how firmly she was rubbing his back, and was surprised that it didn't hurt. "Yeah, sorry," he apologised, recovering quickly. "We should get going," he said, noticing that Ron and Hermione were waiting for them. As Ginny nodded in agreement Harry slowly pulled himself from her grasp, certain that any moment her hand would cause his back to erupt in pain as it normally did.

As the four of them walked down the hallway, Harry suddenly felt nervous about seeing Sirius again, wondering if his godfather would react in anyway. They entered the small kitchen to see Mrs Weasley placing a large plate of sandwiches on the table, obviously having no ingredients to prepare a regular breakfast. Sirius sat at the far end of the table beside Mr Weasley and Remus, not looking up from his paper as Harry entered the room and sat down at the other end of the table.

The table ate in silence, Harry chewing the sandwich slowly as he sat deep in thought. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of annoyance and anger towards Sirius, frustrated at how he was reacting to their fight.

"So, what do we do now?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

There was a pause before Remus answered. "We're still waiting for Kingsley to come back. He'll tell us where we're going."

Harry nodded, glad to know that something was happening. Almost as if on queue, Mad-Eye and Tonks entered the kitchen, the soot on their clothing telling Harry that they had just been through the floo network.

"Well, the Death Eaters are gone," Mad-Eye said triumphantly as Tonks gratefully sat down bedside Remus, taking a sip of his coffee. "It looks like when they didn't find Potter, they trashed the house and left. We were able to recover everyone's trunks though, they're in the living room."

Her eyes alight with relief, Hermione jumped to her feet and headed straight for the lounge room, thanking Mad-Eye and Tonks profusely. Shaking their heads at her, Ron, Harry and Ginny also stood up and left the table, following Hermione into the lounge room where they found everyone's trunks haphazardly left near the fire place.

"Oh no!" Hermione moaned, having already opened her trunk and looked through its contents. "I had my homework on my desk! I'll have to do it all over again."

"Don't know why she bothered," Ron muttered to Harry as he helped him lift Ginny's trunk off of his own. "It's not like she needs it anymore."

For half a moment Harry was about to tell Ron about his intentions to return, but kept his mouth closed, knowing this wasn't the time to tell his friends. Finding his own trunk he flung the lid open, and was relieved to immediately see his invisibility cloak sitting on top of the mess that had been thrown inside. Hopeful, Harry rifled through the messy contents and quickly found the photo album of his parents. Putting it aside, he saw the fake locket lying innocently in between his old school books, and for one horrifying moment he wondered if Voldemort had seen it, but calmed himself down as he realised he would have definitely taken it if he had.

"Everything there, Harry?" Ginny asked optimistically as she looked through her own trunk with a smile.

"Everything important," he muttered as he sat back on his heels, feeling strangely disappointed. He ran his fingers though his hair as he realised that he probably could have left the real Horcrux in his trunk, and that it probably would have been safe. He felt a strange sense of bitterness as he realised that he had put his and Sirius' life at risk for no good reason. Trying to escape the feeling, Harry picked up the photo album and flicked through the pages, looking fondly at the pictures of his parents, relieved that he at least had this.

Standing in front of the house that was to be his point of safety for the next few weeks, Harry couldn't help but feel sick. As the others continued appearing out of thin air with loud cracks he stared up at the house apprehensively, wondering why Kingsley had chosen this house of all places.

From the outside, the home he and Sirius had previously shared appeared completely normal to those around him, but Harry could only see the night that he had been abducted. His breathing shallow, he looked towards the second story and saw his bedroom window, remembering how he had escaped from Snape onto the roof, jumping to the ground below. As though it were being played out before him, Harry could see Snape as he loomed over him on the ground, his strong hand tightly wrapping around his throat until he passed out.

Moving to stand beside his friend, Ron looked up at the house and swore under his breath. "You've got to be kidding me."

Harry glanced at him, seeing that Ron had paled significantly, and he briefly wondered how his own face looked. He turned away and looked back at the house, wondering how he could possibly go back in after what had happened there. Steeling himself for the worst, Harry reluctantly followed Kingsley as he quickly ushered him up the patio and through the front door. Standing inside Harry looked around inside, as though expecting to find evidence of what had happened. He slowly walked through the house, standing in the living room with his hands nervously thrust into his pocket as he looked around, deciding that it was definitely too clean. There was nothing to say that he and Sirius had spent a wonderful few weeks here together before his birthday.

Watching Ron as he walked over to the patio doors and curiously peered out into the back yard, Harry remembered what he had been through, and wondered how Ron would take having to be back here. Forcing himself to stop thinking that way, he turned around and listened as Kingsley began giving instructions as to where they would all be staying.

"Arthur and Molly," he began. His slow rumbling voice seemed almost calming to Harry. "You will be in the main bedroom downstairs."

Jumping at her touch, Harry was startled as Ginny slipped her arm around his waist, holding him close to her. "You alright?"

"Yep," he said solidly, focusing on Sirius trying to convince Mrs Weasley to stay in his bedroom. Since their fight last night, Sirius had continued making a point of not talking to Harry, he had barely even looked at him at all. Anger flared up inside of him again, realising that he didn't care what Sirius did any more.

"Harry," Kingsley said, pulling him from his brooding. "You and Ron will be sharing your bedroom."

"Sure," he said with a nod, slipping his arm around Ginny in return.

Standing in front of Harry, Kingsley's face became apologetic. "I'm sorry, I know this is probably the last place you wanted to return to, but there-"

"It's fine," Harry lied, looking him in the eye. "I don't mind, honestly."

Kingsley nodded at him, but didn't quite believe that Harry was so okay about it. He turned away and spoke to Hermione, telling her where she would be sleeping.

"C'mon, mate," Ron said as he brushed past Harry, heading for the trunks that were waiting at the front door.

Releasing Ginny, Harry followed Ron as he picked up his trunk and carried it upstairs. As they reached the first floor, Harry paused in surprise as he saw the bedroom door. Not noticing anything different, Ron opened the door and went inside, but Harry hesitated as he looked at his new bedroom door, realising that it must have been replaced after Snape's attack. Shaking his head to himself Harry followed Ron inside his room, hardly recognising it as he looked around.

A second bed had been added beside his own, but it was obvious that someone had been through his bedroom, not that this surprised him considering what had happened. Putting his trunk down at the end of the bed, Harry walked over to the windowsill and ran his fingers along the newly painted frame. He looked out into the front yard below, remembering his fear as he scrambled down the patio roof in front of him as Snape chased him into his bedroom. Moving away from the window, Harry moved towards his desk and picked up the new leather wallet that Hermione had given him for his birthday, opening it and seeing that someone had transferred the contents of his old one over.

Sitting down he dropped the wallet onto the bare desk and looked at the wall above it, seeing the array of pictures he had put up. He smiled as he came across the one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team after they won the cup, the Ginny in the picture kissing him happily. Frowning slightly, he scanned along the various pictures as he realised that one was missing, trying to figure out which one it was. He came across an empty spot and realised the missing picture was one of he and Sirius last Christmas. Wondering what had happened to it, he stared at the spot for a few minutes, completely lost in his thoughts until Ron finally spoke.

"So," he muttered as he lay down on his bed. "What do we do now?"

Harry didn't look away from the pictures on his wall, his mind coming up blank as he tried to think of a helpful reply. Hogwarts again flashed before his mind's eye, and the internal debate that had been raging inside of him for days came to the surface again. Before he could stop himself, Harry blurted out his decision on the spot. "I'm going back to Hogwarts."

"What?" Ron said in disbelief, sitting up from his bed and looking at Harry incredulously. "You're going back?"

Harry breathed in slowly for a moment, making sure that he kept his temper under control. "Yeah."

Ron was silent with disbelief for a few moments, before getting up and walking over to Harry, trying to ascertain how serious he was. "Seriously? Why?"

"You know why," Harry replied in annoyance, tearing his eyes away from the pictures and looking at Ron. "There's a Horcrux there, I know it."

Ron sighed in frustration, turning away from his friend and throwing his arms in the air. "I thought we talked about this? Where could it possibly be?"

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly, annoyed with Ron's dramatic reaction.

"It's ridiculous, Harry."

"Well what would you like to do?" Harry retorted, making sure to keep his voice down. "Where would you like to start?"

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, quickly slipping in and closing the door behind herself.

Ron turned around, and from the look on his face Harry could tell that he was restraining himself greatly. "Harry wants to go back to Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes lit up with relief and delight. "That's great, Harry!"

"I'm not going back to study, Hermione," Harry replied with patience. "I think there's a Horcrux there."

"Oh," Hermione replied, sitting down on his bed in disappointment. "I thought we talked about that," she continued, echoing Ron's previous words.

"No, we argued."

"I still don't-"

"What would you rather do?" Harry asked, turning to Ron again and putting him on the spot. He couldn't help but feel smug when Ron didn't reply.

"Malfoy will be there," Hermione reminded him quietly. "Are you sure you can handle that?"

"It'll be fine," he replied dismissively, not wanting to think about him.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, unspoken words passing between them as they considered what Harry was saying.

"Okay," Hermione said as she turned back to Harry. "We'll come with you of course."

"Yeah?"

"We still think you're nuts," Ron added good naturedly. "But you're right, what else are we going to do?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, having expected this to be much harder. Hermione's reminder of Malfoy seemed to echo within his head, and he nervously touched the silver chain that hung around his neck, reminding himself of why he must do this.

"I'll have to redo that homework," Hermione said to herself, considering what else would need to be done in preparation.

"And we'll have to get Mum and Dad to take us to Diagon Alley," Ron continued.

Hermione nodded in agreement and stood up, crossing the room and heading to the door. "You're right, Ron. I'll get my book list."

"Her what?" Harry asked, no longer thinking of Malfoy.

Ron looked at him with his eye brows raised. "Her book list," he replied. "For school."

"You got your letters?" Harry asked in surprise, wondering what had happened to his.

"Yeah," Ron replied slowly before realising that Harry wouldn't have his. "Oh, we got them when you were in hospital. I think Sirius opened yours."

"Well why didn't he tell me?" Harry asked as Hermione paused at the door, listening to him.

Looking at him as though the answer were obvious, Ron slowly replied. "Well, I think he was more worried about you getting better than your book list."

"And after that?" Harry asked the two of them as he stood up, anger seething through his veins as he realised what Sirius had been trying to do. "It been days since I got out!"

"Maybe he forgot?" Hermione responded weakly.

"No," Harry shook his head as he walked towards the door. "He's been keeping it from me."

"Harry-"

Marching through his door, Harry didn't let her finish. "Sirius!" he yelled as he descended the stairway. "Sirius, where are you?"

Ron and Hermione followed him, and as he reached the bottom stair he spotted Sirius sitting by the fireside with Remus and Kingsley.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked cautiously as he looked up.

"Where is it?" Harry demanded as he came into the lounge room, not caring that Kingsley and Remus were there also.

"What?" Sirius said in surprise, as though he hadn't expected Harry to speak to him at all.

"Don't be an idiot," Harry replied, his anger escalating. "You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't," Sirius continued, standing up and walking past Kingsley towards him.

"My Hogwarts letter. You've been keeping it from me, haven't you?"

Sirius said nothing, considering how important it was to continue deceiving him. "C'mon," he said lowly, walking past Harry towards the front door, not wanting to discuss this in front of an audience.

Fuming, Harry crossed his arms and stayed where he was. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room staring at him and Sirius, but he wasn't leaving. He wouldn't allow Sirius to sweep this under the rug. "Tell me where it is!" he demanded again.

"Why do you want it?" Sirius retorted, trying to keep his anger in check. He didn't want a repeat of the night before.

"Why do you think?" Harry asked in frustration.

"You're not going back," Sirius argued before Harry could say it. "There's no way I'm letting you go back."

"I'm seventeen!" Harry replied. "You can't stop me going."

"I don't care how old you are!" Sirius said, raising his voice. "You're not going back!"

Harry took a deep breath before continuing lowly, "You can't force me to stay here, Sirius."

"Actually, I can, " Sirius replied, his tone matching Harry's as he stepped towards him. "Take one step outside the protective barriers and see how far you get."

"I'm going back, Sirius!" Harry said loudly, his anger getting the better of him.

"What about Malfoy? He's going back too."

"I don't care about Malfoy," Harry lied dismissively. "I'll be fine."

"Really? You'll be fine? Because I seem to remember you couldn't even face him at trial."

"I won't be alone," Harry argued. "Ron and Hermione are going back."

Sirius turned away from him, shaking his head as he walked away. "There's no point discussing this, Harry. You're not going to Hogwarts."

"What makes you think you get any say in this?" Harry asked as he followed him, glad when Remus sent Ron and Hermione back upstairs.

"McGonagall won't allow it," Sirius argued, stopping in his tracks.

Harry ignored this. "You obviously think it's safe enough for Ron and Hermione, why not for me?"

"I'm not their father," Sirius countered.

"You're not mine, either!"

Sirius' eyes flashed as he stared at Harry in disbelief. "You ungrateful little brat!" he hissed, advancing towards him. "How-"

"I'm going back!" Harry said loudly before Sirius could continue. "I'm going back, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Stopping right in front of him, Sirius stared at Harry incredulously, furious at what was happening. "Fine," he said scathingly as he took a step backwards. He raised his wand and summoned Harry's Hogwarts letter from upstairs, catching it as it zoomed towards his open hand. "Congratulations," he said, thrusting the already opened letter at Harry. "You're Quidditch captain again. Have fun riding your Firebolt with those injuries."

Ignoring him, Harry snatched his letter from Sirius and turned away, walking back towards the staircase, stopping only as he heard Sirius laughing to himself quietly. "What?" Harry snapped as he turned around on the stairs to look at his godfather, who laughed again.

Looking up at him, Sirius shook his head to himself. "Have you seriously thought about this?" he asked. "Do you really think that after all that's happened, you can go back to normal?"

"Leave me alone," Harry replied shortly as he made to continue upstairs.

"No! You listen to me," Sirius snapped, satisfied when Harry stopped and looked back down at him. "You may think you're ready to face this, but you're not, and it's only going to get worse if you go back to school. Harry, I don't think you truly understand this, but you're famous. You're the most famous person in our world, and if you go back the rumours and speculations are only going to get worse. The papers aren't going to give you a break, they'll have a field day.

"They'll have a field day with or without me there," Harry replied solidly. "And I've dealt with it for six years, why should it be different now."

"And Malfoy?"

"What about him?" Harry answered in exasperation. "I've told you, he's not a threat to me!"

"You're right," Sirius agreed, much to Harry's surprise. "He's not such a big threat now that you're getting better, but he doesn't have to attack you to hurt you. Think about it, Harry. There is only one other person in the entire school who knows exactly what happened to you, and he's not likely to keep it to himself!"

Harry said nothing as he looked at the ground, his breathing shallow and nervous as he thought through all the things that Malfoy could say, all the lies he could tell. Or even worse than the lies, the truths that he could tell. Uneasily, his mind flew to the mark on his arm and he fought the instinct to cover it up.

"Harry, please. You can't do this to yourself," Sirius begged him imperatively, moving forward and standing at the foot of the staircase just below Harry.

Harry said nothing for a moment, knowing that he needed to find a good reason for his return, and he replied quietly. "Sirius, I have to go. School is the one part of my life that is normal, I can't lose that."

He turned away and hastily went back upstairs, not giving Sirius the chance reply. Clutching his Hogwarts letter tightly, he crossed the landing and went straight into his bedroom, relieved when he found it empty. Closing the door behind himself, he leant back against it and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening his eyes he looked down at his letter, which no longer seemed so important, and opened it, barely caring as the Gryffindor Team Captain badge fell out onto his palm. He tossed it onto his desk with a clunk and pursued the rest of his letter, barely sparing his booklist a glance as he opened the letter from McGonagall, outlining the new protective measures that had been put in place, assuring parents that it was safe for their children to return.

No longer interested in his letter, Harry threw it on the desk beside his discarded badge and looked around his bedroom, wondering how it became to feel so foreign to him. Almost as though he had never lived here at all. He wandered over to the corner of his room where his Firebolt stood, running his fingers over the smooth handle, wishing that he were allowed to fly it. He thought back to what Sirius had said, and wondered if he would be able to fly at all, given his considerable injuries. Pondering this thought, Harry slipped his hand under the hem of his jumper and ran his fingers along the lowest wound, both relieved and surprised when it merely stung a little. Feeling confident, he pressed one of the deeper wounds on his stomach, flinching only a little at the pain.

Smiling to himself as he wandered over to his trunk, he was hopeful that he was indeed getting better, that against Madam Pomfrey's predictions, his wounds were beginning to properly heal. Lifting open the lid of his trunk, Harry withdrew his photo album of his parents and lay down on his bed. Flipping through the pages, Harry's heart seemed to skip a beat every time he saw a picture of Sirius, his happy and youthful face reminding him of how quickly things could change, how quickly a life could be ruined. He thought of his friends for a moment, praying that they would never have to face the consequences of his actions, that they would never suffer for what he was asking them to do with him. Grasping the chain, Harry pulled the locket out from underneath his shirt and balanced it in his hand, reminding himself of why he was putting himself through all of this.

A small knock came from his door, and Harry glanced up as Ginny quietly slipped into his room before lying down on the bed beside him. Putting his arm around her they embraced the way they had the night before as he continued flipping through the pages of the album. Losing track of the time they spent their, neither of them felt the need to talk, happily content with just each other.

A/N: Hi readers, this may be the last chapter for a little while, as I am going over seas for three weeks, and won't have time to do any writing! But don't worry, I'm not leaving you completely in distress, head on over to and read some of the fics from the author spunkymuzicnote, (also known to you readers as my plot bunny advisor Rachel.) If you like this story, then her stories will keep you entertained until she and I can post the next chapter, especially Into The Snakes Den and A Hare-y Little Problem.

Have fun reading them, and don't forget to leave her a review.

One last thing, let me know if you have an idea for the name of this chapter...all my creative juices ran out!

Thanks to all.


	55. Chapter 55

A/N Hey everyone!  
Sorry it's been so long, I've been overseas and generally unmotivated regarding this chapter! But don't worry, I'm back into swing and hopefully will stay that way.

This may be the last chapter for this story, I'm not sure about an epilogue. So either way, keep an eye out for an epilogue to this story, or for the up and coming sequel! (I'm not done with Harry yet!) Thanks for sticking with me, even with the long waits between chapters!

Standing in the crowded atrium of the ministry, Tonks patiently waited for the Min

ister to pass by. Having been assigned by the Order to observe him after his appointment as Minister for Magic Tonks knew his schedule better than anyone else, maybe even better than he did. Mentally scolding him for having such a regular routine, she folded her arms and blended into the crowd the way only an experienced auror could, waiting for him to arrive through the fireplace after having lunch at home.

Carefully watching those around her, Tonks continued to scan the atrium in search of the minister, knowing that she had to speak with him as soon as possible. She frowned to herself as she remembered the unhelpfulness of Scrimgeour's secretary, who had only offered to make her an appointment to see him the next afternoon. Breathing out slowly, Tonks forced herself to remember why she was here, why she had been waiting in this crowded atrium for over an hour. That afternoon Sirius had bitterly informed her of Harry's intentions to return to Hogwarts, and her reaction to the news had been less than desirable. If it hadn't been for Remus' soothing words and patience she would have fought with Harry on the matter herself.

So suddenly she almost missed him, Tonks caught a glimpse of the Minister on the other side of the atrium, exiting the fireplace as she knew he would. Setting off she hastily followed him, disappointed to see that he was already being followed by a throng of other ministry workers, each of them hammering him with requests and updates on various departments. Determined to get to him, she rudely pushed past each of them and was by his side as he briskly walked back to his office, trying to listen to everybody at once.

"I need to talk to you, minister," she said loudly, forcing his attention towards her momentarily.

"Take a number," he said, distracted. "What were you saying, Jenkins?"

"I need to talk to you, now," she continued imperatively, ignoring the way he brushed her off. "It's about Potter and Malfoy."

This caught his attention, and he looked at her wide eyed, exasperation evident. "You're not going on about Malfoy again, are you?"

"Yes, I am actually," she said as those around them fell silent, listening to them as they continued walking.

"I've told you before, Auror Tonks. The Wizengamont's decision is final, besides the students will be completely safe from him."

"Potter won't be."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry's going back to school."

Scrimgeour stopped in his tracks and looked at her in surprise, quickly collecting himself as those around them heard what Tonks had said. "Excuse us," he murmured as they walked to the nearest elevator, which was blissfully empty. They stepped inside and the doors slammed shut, the elevator bursting into life and sending them flying backwards. "Potter's returning to Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Tonks replied. "He just told everyone this morning."

"I bet that went down well," he muttered to himself in frustration. "And Black agrees?"

"Sirius is trying to stop him, but there's nothing he can do now that Harry's seventeen. There's nothing any of us can do short of locking him away."

"Well," he replied as the elevator stopped, it's doors slamming open as they stepped out into the corridor. "After what's happened to him, that's the last thing we want to do."

"Don't you understand?" Tonks asked as they approached his office door, taking a moment to glare at Scrimgeour's secretary as they entered. "Malfoy can't go back, think of what it will do to Harry."

Scrimgeour sighed as he sat down behind his desk, rubbing his eyes as he thought hard for a minute. "The best I can do now, is provide Potter with a guard, and issue a restraining order against Malfoy."

"That's not good enough," Tonks snapped, not caring that she was being rude. "Talk to the Wizengamont. Tell them things have changed, and that they need to reconsider the conditions of his release."

"They won't do that, Auror Tonks. You know that."

"C'mon, this is ridiculous! He's already been implicated for letting the Death Eaters into the school, imagine what he will do for them now."

The minister shook his head as he rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Tonks, I know you care for Potter. But the decision has been made, the paper work has been filed. Draco Malfoy will be returning to Hogwarts."

"You can't do that!"

"You want to keep Potter safe?" he asked, halting the shouting match that would ensue.

"Yes!" Tonks replied in exasperation. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"Then convince him not to go."

Tonks rolled her eyes at him and ran her fingers through her short hair in frustration. "If it were that easy, I would have done it already! He's determined to go, you know how he is."

"Still, you must convince him that it is in his best interests to stay at home…where ever that is."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Do whatever you have to," he said as he stood up from his chair. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

He opened the door and stood beside it, a certain indication that she was to leave. Tonks glared at him before marching out of the office and back towards the elevator, determined to make sure that Harry was safe at any cost.

Resting his chin in his hand, Harry lay on his bed absently listening to Ron and Hermione talking, deep in thought as the dying light streamed through his open window. They had been talking for almost an hour, flipping through Hogwarts: A History in search of an artefact belonging to one of the four founders, and Harry had become sick of listening to them, more concerned with what to do with the Horcruxes once they had been found. Never once had Dumbledore told him how he had destroyed the Gaunt's ring, his only clue was Riddle's diary, destroyed only by the venom of the basilisk.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Harry tried to ignore the conversation around him, but was glad to be here rather than downstairs with Tonks. Since his fight with Sirius she had hardly left him alone, hounding him about the danger of returning to Hogwarts, telling him how unsafe it would be. By this afternoon he had finally snapped at her, telling her to mind her own business before he could stop himself, and she didn't need to speak any further to tell him how furious she was. The look on her face had said it all.

Suppressing a growl of frustration he pushed himself to a seated position and stretched his arms above his head, relishing in the stretching muscles in his body. He flopped his arms down to his lap, thankful that he was no longer in any pain. Aside from another nightmare that Ron had awoken him from, Harry had slept surprisingly well the previous night, waking up that morning feeling refreshed and ready, rather than wishing he could stay in bed the entire day.

Glancing at Hogwarts: A History for a moment, Harry's thoughts strayed to Sirius, wondering if they would ever have another civil conversation. Harry grimaced as he remembered some of the awful things he had said to his godfather in the last week, wishing he could take everyone of them back. Thinking of their argument from the day before, Harry wondered what could have possibly gotten into him, what could have possibly made him so angry.

"_I'm not their father," Sirius had said._

"You're not mine, either!"

He looked up at Ron and Hermione as their conversation caught his attention, concentrating on them rather than Sirius.

"What do you mean?"

"She's been asking questions," Hermione said quietly, as though someone was listening. "She's been asking about the prophecy."

"What did you say?" Ron asked imperatively, his worry evident on his face.

"Nothing, I told her I didn't know."

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "Are you talking about Ginny?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied, looking at him with worry. "While you were…gone, she kept asking me about the prophecy."

"Oh," Harry replied, understanding their concern. He sighed, knowing that he needed to tell them that Ginny knew sooner or later. "Don't worry about it."

"Huh?" Ron replied, perplexed. "This is Ginny we're talking about, she's just gonna keep asking."

"Look," Harry hesitated. "I told her."

There was a moment of silence as his friends contemplated this confession, wide eyed and surprised.

"You told her?" Ron replied incredulously. "Why? Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone else!"

"I had no choice-"

"But I've been brushing her off all week!" Hermione added in frustration.

"I know, but-"

"Why did you tell her?" Ron asked again, standing up from the bed as thought Harry had betrayed him.

"Because she heard me telling Voldemort!"

"You told You Know Who?" Ron blurted out, not stopping to think.

Harry didn't reply, preferring to glare at him for a moment. "Yes," he replied solidly. "I had no choice, he was hurting her."

Ron stared at him open mouthed, realising he had hit a nerve. "Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" Harry asked.

Flustering, Ron avoided the question. "Well….well what else have you told her?"

"I told her about the Horcruxes," Harry replied scathingly. "Is that alright with you?"

"You what?" Hermione interrupted, saving Ron from replying.

"Yeah," Harry replied, anger seething through his body at their reactions. "She knows."

"How much does she know?

"Not everything," Harry replied defensively.

"Do you know what you've done, Harry?" Ron said in frustration, seething with anger. "She's gonna want to help now!"

Furious, Harry stood up to face his friend. "Yes, Ron, I considered that. That's why I didn't tell her we know what they are!"

"But she'll want to help us!" Ron argued.

"It's fine!" Harry replied imperatively. "I wouldn't have told her if I didn't think it was okay. Don't you trust my judgement?"

Ron hesitated before replying, as though trying to decide whether he ought to continue. "No, I don't trust you. Not after what you've been through."

"Oh don't start that crap!" Harry said, raising his voice as Hermione stood up, fearing their argument would escalate. "I'm fine!"

"Then what's with the fighting? You've never treated Sirius like this!"

Harry scoffed, hardly believing this. "You're such a hypocrite, Ron! You fight with your parents all the time!"

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "But we've always done that! You've never fought with Sirius!"

"I can't believe this," Harry muttered to himself, turning away from Ron.

"What did you tell her?" Ron demanded loudly as Harry spun around to respond.

"Keep your voices down!" Hermione hissed, getting up and standing between them. "Both of you!"

Ron and Harry stood there glaring at each other, neither of them daring to speak or move. Anger seethed through Harry's veins, furious with Ron's reaction to something that shouldn't have mattered. Finally after a few moments Ron turned on his heel and left, leaving Harry and Hermione to breathe a sigh of relief that the tension was over. Harry glanced at her through the corner of his eye, suddenly ashamed at his behaviour.

"Don't tell Ginny anything else," Hermione said solidly. "Ron's right, she'll want to help."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she swiftly left the room and went downstairs to dinner without a backward glance. Dinner that night was awkward for Harry, after fighting with three of the people in attendance. Ron had spent the entire dinner giving Harry dirty looks as he sat next to Ginny, while Sirius and Tonks appeared to completely ignore him, not that this made any change from the last few days.

Later that night Ginny rhythmically ran her fingers through his hair as he rested his head on her stomach, flipping through his Quidditch magazine. He closed his eyes in relaxation, certain that her hand would send him to sleep. He was grateful that she supported his decision to return to Hogwarts, and Harry thought she was secretly relieved that he wasn't going to run off on a mission to find Voldemort. Not that she knew the full truth, however.

"Hey," Ginny said softly, catching his attention. Looking up at her he watched in confusion as she awkwardly sat up, pulling on the collar of his shirt. Sensing what she wanted Harry propped himself up on his elbow and leaned towards her, suppressing a shiver as she gently kissed him for no reason at all. Breaking away Ginny smiled at him gently, lying back down on the bed and releasing his collar.

"What was that for?" Harry asked as he sat up and then lay down beside her, discarding the magazine.

"No reason," she replied quietly.

"That's fine with me," he replied with a smile, slipping his hand into hers. He ran his thumb along her palm as he gently kissed her on the cheek, turning his attention to her hand. He smiled as he ran his fingers along her nails, feeling the rough and short edges from where she bit them before extending out her fingers and placing their palms together.

"Your hand is huge," Ginny said, watching what he was doing.

"No," he laughed. "Yours is just small."

She smiled at his reply as he turned her hand over in his, feeling the smooth skin that felt so different to the rough and calloused hand of his own. Briefly, he wondered what her hand would look like with his mothers bracelet around it. Rolling onto his side Harry brushed her hair off her face, leaning over her and kissing her deeply. He held onto her hand firmly as they kissed, shivering outwardly as she ran the tip of her tongue over his lips before they broke apart with a grin.

Ginny slipped her hand around his side and held him close to her, and for a moment Harry considered allowing her to slip her hand underneath his shirt as he knew she wanted to, but hastily remembered his injuries. Thankfully Ginny's thoughts seemed to be aimed elsewhere, and he realised with a jolt that she was staring at his neck with a frown.

"I didn't know you wore a necklace."

"I don-" Harry replied, cutting of his denial before he could finish. "Uh, yeah." He tried to sit up, not wanting her to pursue the locket beneath his shirt, but her hands gripped his shirt and held him close to her. She ran her hand up his chest and slipped it inside the neck of his jumper, her fingers brushing against the hidden stitches as she grasped the chain and pulled it out. Later, Harry would wonder why he hadn't stopped her.

"A locket?" she questioned in surprise. "With an S?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered, straightening up despite her hand wound tightly around him. Kneeling beside her, he thought of what he could possibly say to explain the lockets presence, and found himself telling her the truth before he could even stop and think properly about it. "It's a Horcrux. It's part of Voldemort's soul."

"A Horcrux?" Ginny said in alarm, hastily sitting up as she let it go. "You mean, like the diary?"

"Well, yeah," Harry replied, not understanding her shock. "That's what a Horcrux is, I told you."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, thoughts racing through her head at an alarming speed. "How long have you had that?"

"A couple of days," Harry replied.

Looking at him in horror, Ginny shifted away from him and moved towards the head of the bed. "Take it off, please."

A flicker of anger passed through Harry at this request. "Why," he said suspiciously.

"Just take it off."

"No."

"You have to," Ginny insisted. "You can't walk around with a piece of Voldemort's soul around your neck!"

"Would you keep your voice down, everything's fine."

"It's not fine, Harry!" she hissed, standing up from the bed and standing beside it. "Don't you remember what the diary did to me?

"Of course I do," Harry replied, his tone accusatory.

"Then take it off!" she demanded.

"Why should I?"

"Because it made me do things!" Ginny replied uncomfortably. "It made me think all these awful thoughts, it made my moods go crazy! Don't you remember?"

"This is different," Harry replied as he too stood up. "I'm not writing to it!"

"No," Ginny agreed. "You're wearing the damn thing around your neck!"

"It's not doing anything to me! I'm fine," he said angrily, frustrated that she was over reacting so much. He grabbed her arm as she tried to walk past him shaking her head, forcing her to stay. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting Hermione," she said, trying to pull her arm from his grasp.

"You're over reacting."

"I'm not! It's hurting you, Harry!"

"It doesn't even do anything!" he insisted, his anger boiling over.

"Let me go."

"Listen to me! Stop over reacting, I'm fine."

"Harry, let go," she said as her free hand grabbed at his. "You're hurting me!"

Looking down at her arm, Harry let go of his tight grip, horrified. Ginny pulled her arm away from his and stepped back, rubbing and flexing her hand.

"Ginny, I-" he stuttered, not knowing what to say. "I-"

"That's what it does, Harry," Ginny interrupted him, ignoring him. "It's changing you."

"Ginny, I'm sorry," he pleaded with her, taking a step towards her, relieved when she didn't step away. "I didn't mean to do that."

"Take it off."

Harry hesitated, needed her to realise how important the locket was. "I can't just take it off, I have to keep it safe!"

"I don't care," she replied stubbornly, putting her hands on her hips.

He looked at her pleadingly, begging her to understand the importance of the locket. She stubbornly stared back at him, unwavering in her determination. Defeated, he reluctantly raised his arms to the back of his neck and slowly opened the clasp. He pulled the locket away from his neck and reattached the clasp, letting the locket dangle beneath his hand for a few moments. "There," he said quietly, still believing that she was wrong about it. He felt no different.

"Get rid of it."

Harry looked up at her wide eyed, dismayed even further at her request. "I can't just get rid of it" he replied imperatively. "This is part of Voldemort's soul, we have to destroy it."

"Then destroy it!" Ginny replied, as though doing so were that simple.

Harry sat back down on the edge of the bed, sighing as he looked at the locket in his hands. "It's not that simple. If it were, I would have done it already."

"How do you do it?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "The only thing we can think of, is the Basilisk venom."

"Right," Ginny said quietly, sitting down beside him, relived that he had finally taken the locket off. They sat in silence for a few moments, each of them pondering the locket before them. "Do you feel any better?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "It didn't make me feel any different in the first place."

Ginny didn't reply for a few moments, not wanting to argue with him. "When I tried to get rid of the diary, it was a few hours before I felt any different."

"How did you feel?" Harry asked hesitantly as he looked at her.

She didn't reply for a few moments, remembering the differences she had felt without the influence of the diary. "It felt like such a great relief. It was like my head was slowly clearing up, and then all of a sudden I could think again, I knew what was going on around me." She smiled at him weakly for a moment. "I guess I didn't realise how much control the diary had over me, until it was gone. That's why I freaked out when I saw that you had it."

"But I haven 't had the locket for as long as you had the diary," Harry argued, determined that she wouldn't prove him wrong.

"Trust me," Ginny implied. "You'll feel the difference soon."

They didn't say anything further, each of them reaching the point where they couldn't argue anymore without fighting. His heart low in his chest, Harry glanced at Ginny's arm, relieved that her skin hadn't even turned red where he had held her too tightly. He glanced back down at the locket he held, certain that it hadn't made any difference on him, wishing again that Dumbledore were still here to help him.

"I should go to bed," Ginny said quietly, catching his attention. She slipped her hand into his free one and held it tightly. "Promise you won't wear it again."

Harry hesitated, believing that physically wearing the locket was the safest place for it, not willing to compromise it's safety. He nodded.

"No, Harry," Ginny said firmly, hiding the desperation she felt. "Promise me you won't wear it again."

"Alright," he said reluctantly, feeling as though he were setting himself up for instant failure. "I promise I won't wear it."

Ginny looked at him skeptically, and he suppressed his urge to roll his eyes, instead getting up and opening his trunk, rummaging through it and burying the locket at the very bottom. He stood up from his trunk and brushed his hands off, looking at her with a forced smile. "It's gone."

Sighing as she stood up, Ginny approached Harry and hugged him, as though knowing that wouldn't be the last that she saw of the locket, not completely trusting that he wouldn't put it back on again. "Thanks," she murmured.

"It's fine," he lied, kissing her goodnight as she went to bed. Suddenly alone in his room again, he stood on the spot and looked at his locked trunk, wondering if he would ever not worry about the lockets safety.

But hours later, as he lay awake in bed listening to Ron's snoring, Harry knew that Ginny had been right. He gritted his teeth together as his head pounded furiously, the pain in his body that seemed to have vanished had returned, and he could hardly stand it. Suppressing a gasp he gingerly rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to push through the constant pain and fall asleep.

Harry slowly sat up, cradling his head in his hand as a wave of dizziness overcame him. He closed his eyes as this subsided and clutched his stomach when he felt nauseous . Knowing he had to do something, he forced himself into action, throwing the covers off and standing up, swaying on the spot for a moment as he caught his balance. Holding onto the wall beside his bed Harry put on his glasses and glanced at his trunk, almost wishing that he could put the necklace back on, if only to relieve his pain as it had before. He shook his head to himself as he crossed his room, knowing that it was the last thing he ought to be doing with it, especially after what Ginny had told him about the diary.

Leaving his room and lighting his wand in the hallway, he didn't bother to light any candles as he went downstairs. Reaching the foot of the staircase, he looked around at the empty living room, unable to move. Everything looked so different when it was dark, and it chillingly reminded him of the night Snape had attacked, sending a shiver down his spine. Clearing his head Harry went straight into the kitchen, hoping that Sirius' supply of potions was still there.

He opened the cupboard above the muggle stove, relieved when he recognised the familiar array of potions. Seeing the one he needed, he reached inside and pulled it out, checking the label for the dosage directions. He took a glass from the cupboard and measured the required dosage of the pain relief, hesitating before adding just a little more. He put the cork back in the bottle and put it away, not even bothering to sweeten the potion before he drank it. He sighed with relief as he put the empty glass down on the table, though it did little to relieve his pain.

Extinguishing his wand, Harry stood on the spot for a few moments, the darkness helping to relieve his headache before he turned back to the cupboard he had taken the pain potion from and rummaging through it again. He hesitantly removed Sirius' sleeping potion and studied it intently, wondering if it were the same sweet tasting potion that Snape had forced him to drink. His headache suddenly returned as he recalled the Death Eaters slamming his head against the ground, and he remembered the sense of utter helplessness he had felt when faced with the ultimatum of choking or swallowing the potion. It seemed as though these things had happened to him a long time ago, when in fact it had only just been a week, and he wondered if this feeling of detachment towards what had happened would ever leave him.

Focusing on the label now, Harry wondered if he ought to take any that night. Since he had returned Sirius had vehemently encouraged him to take some, certain that a night of unbroken sleep was sure to help him, but Harry had steadfastly refused, wanting nothing to do with sleeping potions. He felt so tired now, and he slowly removed the stopper from the bottle and raised it to his face, recoiling with disgust as he smelt the faintly sweet potion. Putting the stopper in straight away Harry hastily put it on the bench before himself, as though the potion itself had somehow wronged him. Breathing heavily Harry looked at the bottle sitting on the bench, knowing there was no way he would be able to take a mouthful, let alone swallow any of it.

He heard the faintest movement from behind him, and Harry froze for a moment, jumping in shock as the person behind him spoke quietly. "Everything okay?"

Harry forced himself to breath out slowly, collecting himself before he trusted himself to reply. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sirius quietly entered the kitchen from behind his godson, having followed him downstairs as soon as he had left his bedroom. "Why are you out of bed?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry replied dismissively, not wanting to fight again.

Sirius glanced at the bottle of sleeping potion that sat on the bench, making the connection in his mind. "Do you want to take something?"

"No," Harry replied straight away.

"Are you sure?" Sirius pressed him, picking up the bottle and looking it over. "This stuff is good, you'll go straight to sleep."

"I don't want any," Harry replied firmly.

Sirius didn't reply, understanding his refusal. Nobody had told him exactly what happened, but he didn't need to be Dumbledore to deduce that Harry hadn't taken any sleeping potions willingly. He looked at Harry's pale face in concern, reaching out slowly and touching his arm. "You're shaking," he said before reaching up with his other hand and feeling his face. "You've got a cold sweat. What's wrong, Harry?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, pulling away from Sirius' touch.

Sirius' face turned stony. "Fine," he replied quietly. "If that's how it's going to be, I'm going back to bed."

As he turned and walked away Harry looked up and watched him leave, a sting of regret biting at him. "Wait," he pleaded quietly, not entirely sure what he was going to say next. Sirius turned around and looked at him, and Harry continued hesitantly. "There is something wrong," he confessed. "But I-"

"You can tell me, please."

"I can't," Harry replied nervously, not wanting to fight again.

"Why not?" Sirius asked, coming back into the kitchen.

Harry didn't reply for a moment, looking at the tiled floor instead. "Dumbledore," he replied simply.

"He's dead," Sirius replied unkindly.

"That doesn't mean anything."

Silence fell between them, and glancing up at his godfather Harry could tell that he was angry, but Sirius gave no indication that he was to leave again, lifting some of the pressure.

"Does Ginny know what's going on?"

Harry hesitated, fearing that if he told the truth Sirius would be even more angry. "Sort of."

"Okay," Sirius nodded, much to Harry's surprise.

"Okay?"

Sirius nodded, more to himself than to Harry. "She's a smart girl, I hope you're at least listening to her."

Harry nodded, thinking of how she had been right about the locket

"You don't need to worry," Harry lied. "Nothing's changed. The problems we have now are the same ones we had a month ago."

"No, things have changed" Sirius disagreed. "You're in so much more danger."

"It's not like Voldemort's going to kill me straight away," Harry blurted out. "He still thinks he needs me."

"He can still hurt you," Sirius replied solidly, his face stony.

Unsure of how to reply, he turned away from his godfather and looked at the ground uncomfortably, knowing that he was right. They stood in silence for a few moments as Sirius contemplated him, wondering what was bothering him so much. Sirius slowly reached out and placed his hands on the top of Harry's arms, pulling him into a tight embrace before Harry put his palms on his chest, preventing the embrace. "What is it?"

Harry said nothing for a moment, looking at the ground as he tried to steady his breathing, trying to think about what he was going to say. "I'm sorry," he muttered, looking at his feet.

"For what?"

Hesitating before replying, Harry spoke softly, still not looking up. "For being such a jerk. I shouldn't have said the things I did."

Sirius paused, thinking for a moment. "I'm sorry, too," he replied sincerely. "We both said things we shouldn't have."

As he finally let Sirius embrace him, it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off Harry's chest, relieved that they had reconciled. Remembering his exhaustion Harry relaxed into Sirius' embrace for a few moments, before flinching openly as Sirius gently rubbed his back, pain stabbing through the affected wounds.

"Did I hurt you?" Sirius said in alarm as he felt Harry flinch. He released him from the embrace and looked at him in worry.

"Yeah," Harry replied quietly, unable to look his godfather in the eye. "But it's fine."

Sirius stepped away from him and looked him over, scrutinising him. "I thought you were feeling better? You seemed to be acting like it."

"I was," Harry muttered uncomfortably, glancing up for a moment.

Sirius frowned, asking the question that had been on his mind ever since he had come down. "Are you still going back to Hogwarts?"

Harry breathed out slowly, somewhat surprised when the mention of Hogwarts did not stir a flicker of anger from within himself. "Yes," he answered, knowing it was not what Sirius wanted to hear.

"Then I want you to tell me the truth," Sirius replied straightforwardly. "Why?"

Fidgeting uncomfortably, Harry replied slowly. "I told you, I want to go back to something normal."

"Harry," Sirius began weakly. "You're smarter than that, you know things will never go back to normal."

"I know that, but I have to do something," Harry replied, wishing that Sirius could understand. "I've been out of hospital for a week, and I'm going nuts. You want me to stay here forever?"

"I wish you would," Sirius answered.

"I'll miss you," Harry replied after a few moments, knowing it was what Sirius needed to hear.

"I'll miss you more."

Harry didn't reply, unsure of what to say as he stood before his godfather. Now that he seemed to have his blessing, the notion that he was returning to Hogwarts suddenly hit Harry, and he was quickly filled with doubt, wondering if perhaps Sirius was right that he wouldn't cope.

"I better go back to bed," Harry said quietly, the doubts and concerns building up inside of him. Sirius nodded and gently pulled him into a brief one armed hug, releasing Harry unwillingly. "Goodnight," he continued as he turned and approached the staircase, suddenly dreading the thought of finally falling asleep. As though Sirius had heard his thoughts, he quickly called out to him as he ascended the stairs, halting him as he quickly approached him.

"Wait," he said before standing at the foot of the staircase and looking up at his godson. "If you wake up tonight, I'll be there."

Looking at him uncertainly for a few moments, Harry finally nodded gratefully before continuing up the stairs. "Thanks," he replied quietly before reluctantly getting back into bed, his mind spinning even more than it did when he first got out.

Sitting alone in the minister's office, Tonks tipped her chair onto it's back legs, rubbing her eyes wearily as she awaited his arrival. This time she hadn't even bothered speaking to Scrimgeour's secretary, instead marching straight into his office and patiently awaiting his inevitable arrival. Running her hand through her limp hair whose pink colour seemed to have lost its spark, she opened her eyes and looked at the newspaper resting on her lap, resentful of the article the front page displayed. She wished that she had been more subtle in telling the minister about Harry's intention to return to Hogwarts, as it had quickly made front page news of this morning's prophet, one that she hoped Harry would not see.

Closing her eyes Tonks finally let her guard down for just a moment, trying to ease the guilt she was feeling. It didn't matter how much Remus consoled her, she could not help but feel a sense of responsibility for what had happened to Harry, and her guilt only deepened now that she was helping and protecting him less and less each day, during the time when he needed it the most. She heard Scrimgeour enter his office and she reluctantly opened her eyes, the guilt she felt not leaving her for a single moment.

"Auror Tonks," he said sternly, placing his briefcase and a few scrolls of parchment onto his desk. "Why am I not surprised to find you here?"

She sighed to herself, taking a moment before she spoke and revealed her failure. "He's going back. I don't think I can stop him, minister."

"So, what will you do?"

"I honestly don't know," she replied in utter defeat, letting her chair fall to all fours. "He's too stubborn to let me help him."

"I'm disappointed in you," Scrimgeour replied, sitting down behind his desk and studying her. "Since when do you give up?"

"I haven't given up," Tonks replied coldly. "I just know when to ask for help."

"Then you've done the right thing," he replied firmly, shuffling through his scrolls of parchment. "I'm glad you're here," he added as an afterthought.

Smiling gently Tonks felt a great sense of relief, recognising that Scrimgeour had come through with some sort of a plan to keep Harry safe. She waited patiently for him to continue. Finally, after what felt like forever he seemed to have his scrolls in order, and he finally looked up at her and spoke.

"I suppose now is as good a time to tell you as any. I'm changing your assignment."

"What?" she questioned in outrage. Her assignment to watch over Harry had been a godsend, allowing her to stay by him constantly, without inconvenient interruptions from her other duties. "You can't do that!" she continued, trialling off as Scrimgeour raised his hand for silence.

"I am posting you at Hogwarts, to assist in general supervision off the students, Mr Malfoy in particular. As usual, Hogwarts is in need of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Professor McGonagall specifically asked for you to fill the position."

Tonks breathed hard for a moment, trying to think about the implications of this change. "Why can't I guard Harry? It makes sense, he knows me. He can trust me."

Scrimgeour shook his head, having suspected she would request this. "No. To guard Harry you would need to have access to the boys dormitory, and you know I won't allow that."

"Surely exceptions can be made," she argued cooly.

"Kingsley," he began, emphasising the name. "Has been placed in charge of Mr Potters protection, and I'm sure you know he's more than capable."

Tonks bit her tongue, wanting to argue further but knowing she shouldn't. She took a deep and controlled breath before she trusted herself to continue. "Kingsley isn't enough. It's not just Malfoy, Harry will have the entire Slytherin house out to get him."

"I understand," Scrimgeour replied knowingly. "But Potter is going to have a troop of Aurors protecting him, day and night."

"Right," Tonks replied in defeat, still unhappy. She knew she couldn't rest easy until she watched over Harry herself, but reminded herself to be grateful she would at least be teaching him. Her opportunities to see him on a personal basis would be small amongst teaching duties, but knew she would make the time necessary. She not only owed it to Harry, she owed it to Sirius, who had entrusted Harry's safety into her hands the night he was abducted.

"I believe there is nothing else we can do at this time," Scrimgeour said, interrupting her from her thoughts. "You'll report to Professor McGonagall today. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting in a few minutes."

Knowing she was dismissed, Tonks arose from her chair and slowly walked towards the door, not bothering to thank the minister for his help.

"Wait," he said, causing her to turn around. "You can rest easy, Tonks. Harry has been through the worst of it. It can only be uphill from here."

Tonks shook her head to herself after a moment. "I disagree," she said sadly. "Voldemort's only just getting started."

Without another word Tonks turned and left, knowing that she was right. What he had done was unimaginable, but Voldemort was far from finished with Harry.


End file.
